The Life of a Traveler
by Soccergirl08
Summary: What happens when Rory gets the chance of a lifetime to cover a story in Africa at a relief camp...and it just so happens that Tristan Dugrey is a cocky, but sarcastic 24 year old, who owns the camp and works for the UN! See what happens... Jess included
1. My Life as the unfortunate traveler

_Summary: What happens when Rory gets the chance of a lifetime to cover a story in Africa at a relief camp...and it just so happens that Tristain Dugrey is a cocky, but sarcastic 24 year old, who happens to own the camp/work for the UN! See what happens...READ PLEASE!_

_Disclaimer: First off, I do not own any of the charcaters in this story, but I do however own certain parts of the plot._

_Beware, this is my first Fanfic, so bear with me:) Hopefully it's not like really terrible or anything. I'm open to any reviews you'd like to give, so please do so. That way I know whether or not I should continue this story or not._

_I love, love, love Gilmore Girls!_

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My Life as the** unfortunate** traveler

I cannot even discern where to begin. It's been so long since I've settled down in front of a notebook and pressed the faded-ink pen to these dingy sheets of paper. My story has no beginning or end. It will always haunt me no matter where I go and will leave traces of my shadow on every path that I shall come across. To call my life a story is an exaggeration of its own kind. To create a story, you must know all the facts… facts in which I am still trying to divulge. However, if I do not follow through with the act of writing this all down, the world shall never know of a tale or more so, a life that once existed. Maybe the world could one day accept the audacious, daring and incomprehensible secrets that our adventure was based on. But then again, that's just wishful thinking. I'm almost sure that it is impossible to bring to the world a claim without explanation. A claim in which led the others and I to run in order to escape disaster. We not only ran for our lives, but for all the others who had not yet been informed of the secrets that had been hidden from them, like a treasure buried in the sand; secrets that caused the loss of a nation and the determination of a whole team. Unfortunately, I am the only one left from expedition "Johan", and just as the others would have done, I am telling the world of our adventure in the chance of spreading a message, spreading the truth; but most of all… to let the very person that started this whole thing free. And so, the story begins…

The old worn out clock rang nine times, like it had always rung for the past eleven years of my life. Ever since I was young, I could remember that clock ringing over and over, night and day in my head. Each sound symbolizing to get up, go to school, change classes, eat lunch, dismissal from school, tea time, dinner time, and bed time. It was done everyday and I obeyed it everyday of my life; like an obedient puppy that knows no wrong and will only follow what is believed to be good and right by English standards. I moved to live with my grandparents in England when I was only ten, after my mother, Lorelai, died in a car accident. My grandparents thought it would be barbaric to just drop me off with a father who was hardly ever around, so we moved from Connecticut to England. My grandmother and grandfather had been to London numerous times and met under the clock known as "Big Ben", when they were young lovers. I never put two and two together as of why they got to together, or how remotely odd it was that my grandmother (quite an attractive women) would be in the slightest bit interested in my grandfather (a rather large, passive old fellow). My grandfather loved to sit next to a cozy fire and edit upcoming novels, as he murmured to himself in a kind of a humming sound. He loved this hobby so much, that by the time I was twelve, editing books had become his part-time profession. But on warm breezy days, when my grandmother was off chatting at someone's house for tea, my grandfather would unwillingly retire from his recliner and go down to the green with a couple of his friends to play golf. I could remember now, sitting on the bench after school watching him hold the club with a firm grip, fooling all of his friends into thinking he was actually good. But the final outcome of his shot always proved other wise. Aside from my grandfather, my grandmother was the out-going and extremely social type in the family. She was usually the grandmother behind all the school fundraisers, baby showers, bake sales, and even the women's relief groups. But behind all of her assumed perfection was a tired and frightened woman. Her age showed better on some days than others depending on the weather outside, the time in which she got up, and what meeting she had scheduled for that day. Together they were like mustard and jelly, but in some way, my existence balanced out the strangeness of the marriage.

The wind blew over the leafless trees, which provided a barrier between the town square and the main roads. I couldn't help but glance down at my watch to check if the time on my watch was the same as time on the clock tower.

"Mamme, do you realize that it's nine o' clock at night? Aren't you going to be heading home now? You've been sitting out here in the chilly air for hours." Startled, I turned around to find a pudgy man with round shaped glasses and a thick brown mustache peering down on me.

"Oh, yes. I was just about to leave." I got up and buttoned up my coat, as I threw my scarf around my slender neck and walked away from the man. I marched briskly towards the sidewalks, as the illuminating light from the lamp post blinded my eyes. Snow began to gently sprinkle onto my long hazelnut colored hair, as the smooth creamy locks soon turned into a wet mat. Every time I breathed in big gasps of cold air, my throat began to burn causing me to cough uncontrollably. Cars lined the curves of the street and up along the alleys where homeless people creped around like cats prowling in the night.

Walking faster and faster, I finally reached the entrance to my building. Once I had taken out the keys and turned the lock to open the door, I slipped my pale hand out from the cuff of my coat and pulled the icy cold handle to disengage the door. The dim lighting immediately flooded into view, as the aroma of fresh baked bread danced beneath my nose. Stumbling over to the stairs, I pulled with all my weight up the steps to my floor. I couldn't help but wonder why I took refuge in the town square out of all the other places in London. I guess it reminded me of past memories as a child. As I opened the door to my flat, Janet's cat, Minis, leaped through my parted feet and out through the doorway. All that was visible of the wooly cat, as it scrabbled down the hall was its smoky colored tail in which pointed straight up in the air. As I stepped through the doorway, my knees began to feel weak and my vision blurry.

"And so she returns…" a hoarse voice called as the familiar unshaven face came into view. My roommate Jesse, dragged down the hall like a snail, as he put his arms over his stately head to stretch. His muscular body showed through the under shirt that he wore quite often to bed. His soft brown hair came partly down into his dark brown eyes, as a smile wiped onto his face. He had rose colored cheeks, which accented his olive skin and dark eyebrows. I dropped my coat and scarf on the sofa, as I plopped down to lean against one of the throw-pillows. I could hear his heavy footsteps coming towards me, as a warm, roughened hand pressed against my forehead.

"You're getting that darn fever again! Maybe you should go to the doctor this time. Last time you had a fever, you gave Janet and I a scare with the constant rising of your temperature." I opened my eyes slowly to find him sitting close enough to feel the heat sweltering off of him. He rubbed his enormously charming eyes and covered his mouth to yawn.

"Really, I'm fine. All I need is a good night's rest and this whole sickness thing will pass over." I tried to pull my weight up from the couch, but found myself staggering back down to it again.

"Careful now," Jesse whispered whole-heartedly. Gently catching my arm, Jesse used his hand to slowly bring me back down to a sitting position. "Oh yah; just fine," Jesse mocked, as he got up and moved my coat to the armchair near the fireplace. Frightened by my sudden loss of feeling in my legs, I tilted my head back against the pillows and closed my eyes. A throbbing pain began to develop over them, which felt more like a bullet to the forehead then anything else. Jesse paced back over to the olive colored couch and tapped me lightly on the side of my arm. Immediately, I opened my eyes as Jesse's glowing face appeared in front of my gaze.

"I think you should sleep on the couch tonight, since you'd feel more comfortable here anyways." Jesse helped me to prop up my feet. He then ran and got the tan comforter to cover my shivering body with.

"Your forehead is hot, but the rest of your body is freezing! Where have you been?" Jesse looked apprehensively down at my face, as he brushed away my long strands of hair from the sides of my cheeks.

"I was just outside today at the town square" I muttered, as I knocked his gentle fingers away from my cheek.

"You should really look after yourself more often, you know? Being outside on a day like this when you know you get sick easily…that's not the smartest thing to do."

"Alright, I get it!" I could feel my cheeks begin to burn, as aggravation swept over me.

"I don't mean to be a bother…it's just that, I care what happens to you." My attention from the floor rose up to Jesse's face, as embarrassment flashed into his eyes.

"Jesse…" My voice trailed off, as I directed my gaze up at the ceiling. Silence followed for what seemed like a lifetime. I could still feel his intense gaze on me as he lightly brushed my arm, burning the surface of my skin. I sighed loudly trying to control the thoughts that filtered into my mind, but couldn't contain it any more. I placed my hand on top of his shoulder, pulling him down towards me; his lips willing accepting the invitation. _What are you doing?_ I thought to myself, as I felt his lips lustfully kiss my chapped ones. Moans found their way up and out of my mouth, as Jesse's hand moved from the small of my back to underneath the lining of my shirt. The weight of Jesse's body was to much for me to handle, as I tried scootting upward, releasing the pressure. Arching my back upward to push myself from under him, I accidentally thrusted myself against him. His hands gripped tighter around my waist, taking this as a sign of what he thought was yet to come.

Suddenly, a light came flooding in through the doorway, breaking up the dim atmosphere of the room. It was my other roommate Janet. Her short black hair fell at the sides of her shoulders, as her shocked expression seized every muscle in her face. Silence proceeded for another minute, until Jesse boldly chose to speak up.

"So Janet, what are you doing back so soon?" Janet and I both looked astonished at the way Jesse tried to handle the situation. I became even more discomfited in front of my life-long friend, as her gawk continued to pierce through Jesse and I, like flaming arrows.

"Do I even want to know why I saw you two on top of each other, making out?" Jesse looked half-heartedly at me, almost as if to say _"Please speak up so I don't have to."_

"Janet…I can't think of anything right now that you'd except as a good enough answer, but I'll get back to you when I do." My voice quivered as I said the bold statement. Jesse got up and proceeded to the nearest exit, as Janet stuck her hand out to stop him.

"Why don't we discuss this now?" She gave an unpleasant, fake smile and pushed Jesse back to his seat.

"Is it a crime, if I might have feelings for Rory?" Jesse carped as he got back up again.

"Yes! It is a crime when that person is living with you! Look, I don't know what they taught you at that boarding school of yours, but I thought it was pretty clear when we agreed that there would be no relationships between us."

"And why not?" Jesse protested.

"Because things like this happen and everyone gets affected. I get uncomfortable, you get uncomfortable, she gets uncomfortable; for gosh sakes, everyone gets uncomfortable and the whole thing turns into a big mess! Pretty soon we'll all be at each others throats, singing La La, off key! And nobody wants that. Not as long as I'm living here, will there ever be a mariachi band in tights and screaming toddlers! Got that!" Janet lowered her finger from Jesse's face and picked up the grocery bags again. Jesse and I both stared bewilderingly at Janet, as she continued to ramble on about senseless jumble.

"Rory, can you help me with these in the kitchen?" I obediently got up and followed behind Janet. As I looked back at Jesse sitting on the table, I could still see a flicker of rebellion in his eyes.

"Janet, Rory's sick again. I'll help you in the kitchen, while she tries to get some rest, alright?" Jesse got up and tottered into the cramped kitchen, with its shallow sink and Formica counter tops. Janet looked up from behind the center island and quickly glanced at me.

"Why didn't you tell me, you were sick again?" Janet marched over to me and gave me a hug. "I'll make you some tea, okay? You just go lie down and get better." Janet watched compassionately after me, as she filled the tea kettle with water. I could hear Jesse and Janet quietly bickering in the kitchen, as I fell onto the couch limply.

"You made-out with her and probably would have gone further, knowing she was sick?" Janet muttered in a low voice. I could hear Jesse defending him self and setting a whole bunch of baloney on the table, to make himself look like the good guy. Deep down inside, I felt nothing more than a friend-type relationship for Jesse. To me, he was a benefit and an occasional user when you wanted it. I often thought it was selfish, but I soon realized after about the third time, that Jesse felt the exact same way. So no longer did I feel self-centered, but more so, ashamed of my insecurity. A normal, self-confident person would have done the opposite. But I have flaws that I will not patch, and will only shield them from the ones I love. For they are the one's, who should never know of all things that go on in my head and the habits that inflict the most pain.


	2. The beginning of it all

_Remember, I do greatly appreciate reviews, so review like crazy please! This isn't the best chapter, but I was rushed when I typed this. So hopefully it's okay:)_

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"The beginning of it all"

Two years had gone by since the last time that I had felt nausea, dizzy spells or agonizing migraines. Just like a great whirlwind, my fear of getting sick and ultimately becoming dependent on everyone around me, brushed over like a cool breeze. I was free and motivated to start my life; my life as the traveler. Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming an explorer and documenting my findings down in a little notebook, that I often kept handy. When I was in third grade, my teacher asked me what I wanted to be. I can still in vision her bobbed shaped head and slender, black spectacles that made her green eyes appear like a cat's. I was the more petite child in the class, with long, wavy hair and large brown eyes.

"I want to help the world," I said to the class, after Mrs. Hinkle posed the question to me, like she did to every other student before me; not really caring what I had to say. My teacher just glanced at me and smiled. Then she would cock her head to one side and stare down at the clipboard in her lap.

"That's nice that you want to save the world, honey. How about you, Mr.… –abrupt stop-." Mrs. Hinkle looked up, almost taken aback, as I cut her right off in between her sentence and proceeded to correct her on her earlier comment.

"Not to save the world Mrs. Hinkle. I'm going to inform them." I said the statement in such a flat, cold tone, that Mrs. Hinkle dropped her pen and didn't even realize it. After a long pause, she looked up at her class again with a disturbed and almost apprehensive glare, as she brought the clipboard up to her face, to call out the next name on the list. I was a strange child and everyone could sense it whenever they were around me. I was an observer. I was not much for conversations, parties, socials or anything dealing with the ordinary routine. My grandfather often told me that I would probably be better off if I was born into a more unstructured environment, but my grandmother wasn't one to listen to such things like that. Her philosophy was that, as long as I stayed in a private school, attended the weekly ice cream social with friends that my mother had invited, and played a number of sports with the school wide sport's league, that I would eventually become a well-rounded, perfect child. But to me, that idea of making me into a perfect child was like turning me into another mindless zombie.

"Oh, but you could make so many friends and you're such a pretty girl, that you could get anything you want," she use to say. Years went by and so did all the memories, but none of them worth remembering. There were a select few that I wanted to keep, but the others were dead to me, just like every child that attended Huntington Private School and the preppy girls at cotillion school in France. After I graduated from Yale University, I applied for my dream job at the National Geographic. Shortly after sending out my application and going through a long, strenuous interview with the head assistant, I got accepted. But the job in the end was not what I expected. I ended up only writing small articles and editing select writings, in which were less then important to the magazine. Slowly but surely, my traveling dreams disappeared beneath my finger tips and seemed to almost slip away forever.

"So, have you ever been to Africa before?" the man in the navy blue suit asked, as he dabbed his cigar into the ashtray and propped his feet up onto the mahogany desk. I stared blankly at the balding man, as I racked my brain to come up with a sufficient answer. The only thoughts that were going through my mind were worriment and frustration. I knew this was probably my only chance to make it big in the company and actually get to travel, and if I didn't answer correctly, I might lose all chances of that; something that I wasn't willing to risk. I slid my hands down my skirt and nervously licked my lips.

"No sir. I'd have to say, I've never been to Africa." I closed my mouth firmly and sat awkwardly in the seat, as the man continued to smoke his cigar in the most disgusting fashion.

"Do you have any certified training with expeditions in isolated areas in any parts of the world?" Again I sat firmly positioned in my chair, trying not to blow away the only opportunity of what I've always wanted.

"No sir. I am not certified for that kind of study. To tell you the truth, the only place that I've been outside of England and the United states, is France." The man's attention dazed off into the fading-blue sky and the buildings outside his large office window.

"That's a shame." My heart began to thump, as I realized that he had already made-up his mind not to choose me for some kind of trip.

"But…ever since I was little, I've always wanted to travel and I am a risk-taking type person, if you get to know me." The man's hand rested on the desk, as he took his feet off of it and spun his chair around to look directly at me.

"You're a risk-taking type person?" His expression was dull and not the slightest bit interested in anything dealing with my qualities as a person. "Look…I brought you up here because you can write." He stuck his cigar into the ashtray and got up from his swivel chair. "And also because the girl who was suppose to be assigned with this trip, came down with mono. Now, my question to you is, if I were to assign you to this trip, would you do a good job?" The man leaned against his filing cabinet and looked intently at me. His thick bushy eyebrows conquered his small beady eyes, and took up a large portion of his chubby face.

"Well sir, I can tell you straight up, that I may not have all the qualifications or experience to do this trip, but I would give it all my best if I had the opportunity." The man rubbed his flabby chin and stared down at the floor, as he paced back over to his chair.

"Alright then; I will assign you a crew to come with you for protection purposes and also for the purposes of taking pictures for the article. Your destination is Zimbabwe on the eastern coast of Africa, just northeast of Botswana. You will depart with two other guys which will consist of your crew from the capital of Harare to a relief camp two hundred miles away, on the outskirts near Beitbridge. There you will stay for three weeks, writing down facts and reporting stories on the flood that has hit there recently. The photographer, John Mills, will be working with you, and so will Dan Swuitzin, our cameraman." The man looked down at the pile of papers sitting next to him and thumbed through them for a particular packet. When he finally pulled a collection of cream colored papers from the stack, he set them gently down in front of me.

"I'd like you to sign in every place where you see an x and read through these papers very carefully before you decide whether you truly want to do this job." I picked up one of the papers on the far-left as I read through the safety precautions listed and the tasks involved in the expedition. "As you will read, food, flight and hotel in Harare for the first few nights is all paid for…and this picture right here is the man organizing the relief camp currently." As he flipped the sheet for me to see, a black and white photo attached to the creamy colored paper stared back at me. It was a picture of a moderately-tall tanned man. He couldn't have been more then twenty-four years old, because of his young face and the lively feel that you got from his entire appearance.

As I studied the picture keenly, the head assistant got up and gaped over me, as he tapped the photograph on the back. "His name is Tristan Dugrey. All of them say he's a devil with foreigners, but has the biggest heart of any man you'll ever meet. I think you two will get along." I set the picture back down on top of the paper and collected all my things to go. As I got up and straightened out the papers to put in my bag, the man turned towards me and austerely looked into my eyes. "And Ms. Gilmore, if you do decide that you're fully prepared for this, just give me a call, and we can go over the preparations for the trip. My number's on the top sheet." I glanced down at the papers I was still holding, as I grinned and shoved them into my bag. "I certainly will. Thank you, sir." "Oh please call me George." He smirked as I pulled the straps of the bag over my shoulder and turned to leave.

I drove home with a jumble of thoughts that could almost make any sane person mad. So many things ran through my mind at once that I could barely control any of them. I attempted to rid them by playing the music louder or concentrating on the rhythm of my fingers, tapping against the steering wheel. Ultimately, my thoughts that were subdued by everything imaginable took over, and seized me in a pool of confusion and excitement. I began to question my capabilities with writing and wondered why I had gotten this opportunity and not some other individual down the hall from me, who was more experienced in travel. I parked my car at the side of the building where I lived. Then I hurriedly raced to the entrance, carrying my tope bag nearly on my wrist. Mr. Craft, the doorman, greeted me with his usual smile, as he opened the large glass door for me to enter through. I casually walked on into the building and fell at ease, as I saw Janet coming down the stairs. Her graceful figure strutted elegantly down the creamy, marble steps with confidence and dignity. She had dark black hair that came to her shoulders and exotic black eyes. From first glance, you'd think she looked Czechoslovakian, but her real nationality was Egyptian. She was born and raised there until the age of five, which was the year that her parents had decided to move to France. Soon after arriving, her mother signed her up for cotillion lessons at "_L'école de Cotillon de Mme Burleys pour les Filles_". Apparently, Janet's mother thought that she needed more discipline and manners in her life, which was partly true because of Janet's occasional unruly habits. Janet hated the idea of going to a school where you had to wear dresses and curtsy, almost as much as I did. After the first lesson together, we became fast, long-lasting friends. But because she lived in Paris and I was only attending Cotillion school for the summer and was returning back to London immediately in the fall, we drifted apart. We still kept in touch as much as we could, but it still wasn't the same. Then one rainy night in April, I received a sudden phone call from Janet. I could hear her screaming at the top of her lungs about something with London and her and me. After a long while of occasional ear-piercing screeches, I finally was able to piece together what she was trying to get out. She was coming to LIVE in London! Her father's job had relocated to England, which meant that we would be able to see each other more often then we ever could before. I became so excited that I nearly tumbled out of the chair, in which I had been sitting on. Janet begged her mom to go to the same private school that I was going to, which was a relief for me because she made the atmosphere there, so much more bearable. We went to the same high school and attended the same University as well. We also both majored in journalism, which was no surprise to any of our other friends or families. We had cried together and laughed together and sometimes even fell flat on our faces in front of each other; but no matter what, we were friends for the long run. And whatever happened in our lives would not affect the connection and bond we held between us.

"Hi Janet!" I yelled happily, not paying attention to the other five heads that turned at the loud sound that came out of my mouth. She glanced over at me, as she perked up with contentment at the sight of me.

"Hey, did you get off from work early today or something?"

"Oh, not exactly. I have something to tell you and Jesse…speaking of Jesse, where is he? Weren't you two, suppose to go to a rugby game today?" Janet lifted her gaze from the silky, marble floor and placed her hand against her forehead.

"Well, Jesse came down with the flu, so we decided it'd be best if he stayed at home. Actually, I'm going out to go get him some ice cream, right now?" I looked bewilderedly at Janet.

"Wait, if he's sick, he's not supposed to have ice cream!"

"Yes I know, but I feel guilty since I was acting mean earlier this morning, trying to get him to get ready." Janet gave a nervous chuckle, as she put her hands on her hips.

"Well, why don't you come back up stairs to the flat real quick so I can tell both Jesse and you the good news?"

"Oh, but I just came down here. Why don't you just tell me now?" You could hear her voice automatically become whiny, as a distressed expression ran cold down her face. "Look, if I go back up there, Jesse is going to give me bloody hell and…"

"No he isn't." I tried to compromise with the best of my ability, as I could see my persuasive charm begin to work. "I promise, it'll only be two minutes and then you can go get that ice cream. Please…" I looked up into Janet's face with almost a puppy dog pout, as she shielded her eyes in defeat.

"I'm almost afraid to leave you two alone."

"Hey!" I squeaked as I glared at her for making that remark. "Don't you trust me?"

"Oh, you know I do. Yes, I'll come up for two minutes, but that's it! Okay?" I nodded in agreement, as I took hold of her hand and anxiously drug her behind me, to the stairs. Almost in a race like fashion, I leaped up the steps, trying to reach our floor, as if my life depended on it. When the door into our flat was finally visible, I darted towards it and rammed the keys into the keyhole.

"Will you slow down?" Janet came panting behind me, as I flung open the door and saw Jesse laid out on the couch, bundled up in a thick blanket. The roar of the television filled up the room, as I threw down my bag and ran to the tele. Turning it off, I twirled myself around to face both of them, as Jesse made an angry face at me.

"What'd you turn the tele off, for ya loon?" Ignoring his question, I marched over to the table in the other room and brought a chair out to the coffee table for me to sit on. After finally situating myself in front of both of my roommates, I calmly cleared my throat. Both Janet and Jesse laid silent on the other half of the room trying to figure out what I had to say.

"I have an announcement to make." Jesse's face crinkled up like a prune, as he looked out the window next to the couch.

"Oh please don't tell me you lost your job! Janet only makes a measly amount an hour, and to cover room and board, I just…"

"Jesse, that's not what I'm about to tell you; so just calm down for a second, okay?" Jesse gave a deep sigh and moved himself into a sitting position on the couch. I never noticed how good Janet and Jesse looked together, until I saw them side by side. Jesse was strong and stout, while Janet was slender and graceful. Two opposites that clashed, but could not be without the other. I brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, and placed my hands delicately on my lap. Gasping for air, I closed my eyes and opened them again. Still the portrait remained. Jesse and Janet, side by side. That memory will always remain, no matter how tarnished the picture becomes in my mind. Black and white, blue and yellow, forever. History and the future coated our friendships, often said the wise girl in my head. She was fragile and very small, but she made all the difference in the world. She changed my thoughts and made me who I was sitting in front of my friends. She made me brave, she made me strong; but most importantly, she made me whole. That was only on the inside. For the outside, it was the support of my friends that carried me through; carried me through to make a decision, to take a risk and jump for my dreams. Bounce off of the ground and leap into the skies. I have often believed that great minds wonder this earth unnoticed. And it is because they go unnoticed and go unacknowledged, that we often times still have humble people. People who stand in the background and make the others shine. And that's what Janet and Jesse did for me. They had helped me and guided me without clipping my wings, and now it was time for me to fly. To fly to a better place and soar. But always will I have the wisdom that I've gained from them, to pass it on and become another individual who helps and stands in the background. If it wasn't for my greediness, this thought might actually be true. But because of who I am, every action goes noticed, and I have no way to repay what others have lost for me.

"I went to the assistant head today, and I got the opportunity of a life time. I was asked to take an expedition to Zimbabwe for a few weeks and report a story on the major flood that started there!" Janet's eyes grew larger, as she smacked her hand against the arm of the couch.

"That means you get to travel?" she said excitedly.

"Yes, I get to travel!" Janet ran over to me and gave me a big, warm-hearted hug. "Oh, I'm so proud of you…" she whispered as she held me tighter.

"Wow, Africa…" Jesse said slowly, as he tried to take it all in. "When do you leave?" Janet asked abruptly. "As soon as I turn in the sheets, get my shots, meet the crew, and go over a bunch of other mandatory procedures. "Well what are you waiting for?


	3. Meeting the Crew

I had been waiting for hours in Gate 21B, pondering over my previous decision to fly half way around the world. I had never traveled this great of distance without individuals that I knew or family members. Now, I sat alone, worried, scared and confused.

"Excuse me, but are you Rory Gilmore?" The gentlemen standing beside me, was rather tall with curly brown hair and stubble lining the sides of his face. He definitely looked as if he had been camping for a few days and didn't bother to clean up.

"Yes…I'm guessing you're Dan Swuitzin, right?" I inquired nervously, as I flashed the Englishman a humongous smile.

"Guilty as charged! My colleague, John Mills, should be arriving shortly from Tokyo. You know how those Japanese are…" I stared at Dan in bewilderment, as I nodded my head.

"So, is this your first time doing an expedition like this?"

"Yah, how could you tell?" I asked shyly, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ears.

"Well, for starters, you're not wearing the proper hiking boots, your shirt is far too nice, and you'll never survive in that heat, if you're wearing silk pants." I blushed uncontrollably, as I stared down at my outfit. All I could see from out of the corner of my eye was a small grin forming on the Englishman's face.

"Oh, and one last thing, I could smell you from a mile away."

"What?" I furrowed my brow, as I peered at him in confusion. Dan leaned across to my right side and whispered in my ear, his hot breathe slightly tickling my neck.

"Your perfume, dear." I gulped loudly, as I could see another smile form on his lips.

"Oh, there you are! I knew I could spot that scruffy scoundrel anywhere." Dan and I whipped around to see a tall, lanky fellow pacing towards us.

"John!" Dan yelled at the top of his lungs, as he threw his hands out and embraced John in a huge hug.

"Nice to see you mate! And who's this fine Shelia?"

"Oh, this is Rory Gilmore. You know, the girl the boss was talking about." John stuck out his hand, as he tried to prop his camera-stand and his luggage against his left leg.

"A pleasure to meet you." He smiled, showing pearly white teeth under his dark complexion. He also had curly hair like Dan's, but John's had a reddish tint to it. He was most certainly an Australian, built for the rough and tumble life of always living on the go. I knew from that moment on, that we'd become good friends.

"The pleasure is all mine." I shook his hand firmly, as a flight attendant came over the loud speakers announcing that our flight was now boarding.

"Are you ready then?" Dan injected with a smile. Taking a deep breath, I gave a quick nod and bent down to pick up my things.

"Aren't you jetlagged Chap?" Dan mumbled over to John, as we all began to make our way over to the boarding line.

"Oh no, mate. You know me, I can take absolutely anything. A few more hours added on to a 24-hour flight, doesn't do much to this lad" he proudly stated, as he straightened his posture and casually stepped into line. I followed suit and nervously waited for my turn to hand the lady at the entrance of the tunnel, my ticket.

"Next please" was all I heard before a short, green-eyed lady came into view.

"Your ticket, Miss." I slowly handed over the flimsy piece of paper, before taking a step into the beginning of an adventure; a journey that would change the rest of my life forever.


	4. Welcome to Zimbabwe!

The flight, though comfortable, was far too long to be sitting next to John Mills. His mouth would constantly be flapping the whole entire time, about everything from cars to chipmunks.

"Hey John!" Dan yelled in an agitated tone.

"Yah?" John replied.

"Put a sock in it or I'll come over there and wonk you, if you know what I mean." Immediately, John's mouth firmly shut, as he leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.

I turned around to look at the sleepy-eyed Englishman, slouched back with his I-pod turned on full blast.

"Thanks for that." He nodded in acknowledgement and continued to doze off for a small nap.

"You know—" John began to whisper, as he leaned near me, as if not to let Dan hear. "Dan's a good guy once you get to know him. He's not half as bad as Tristan Dugrey though—"

"I heard that!" Dan cut in with a hoarse voice.

"Dugrey's the relief camp owner right?" I curiously inquired.

"Oh and what a devil he is! You'll be lucky if you get two words out of the bastard before he turns all Hellish on you."

"I'll keep that in mind…" I mumbled more to myself then to John. I was up for the challenge and couldn't wait to meet my competition. I knew this Tristan guy was an arrogant, jerk who disliked foreigners, but I also knew that he carried an aura of respectability. He devoted his entire life to the people in Africa and showed this through his many acts, such as setting up a relief camp funded partially by the UN. My thoughts were interrupted as the pilot came on to give a brief overview of the weather conditions outside.

"We'll be landing in about ten minutes, so I'd like to request for everyone to remain in their seats, with seat belts fastened. Thank you for flying with Lufthansa Airlines. Enjoy the rest of your flight."

Every muscle in my body began to tense up, as the color from my face drained. All the confidence that I once had, now disappeared.

"Are you okay?" John asked with concern, as his face scrunched up like a prune.

"Uhh…oh yah, I'll be fine" I asserted in a shaky voice. John only nodded, as he shrugged his shoulders. I could feel the wheels touch the run-way, as everyone lunged forward in response to the impact.

"I never miss this feeling…" Dan muttered, as he straightened himself up in the chair.

"Well, that's because you're not a natural born flyer like me" John squawked happily.

"What's that you say?" Dan lifted his hand to his ear.

"Not a natural born ass like you…yah, I'm glad I'm not one of those." John only turned around and glared at Dan, as his entire face turned red.

----------------------------------------------------------

We finally retrieved our luggage and headed out to the front entrance of the tiny airport. A black van was waiting at the very end of the strip with a tall man next to it. He held up a sign that read "the Gilmore Crew."

"Oh, that's just great. We don't even get acknowledged, but instead, we get referred to as the Gilmore crew. For once, I'd like to have it titled 'the Mills Crew'."

"John…"

"Yah?"

"Shut up."

We slowly walked up to the man in traditional African garb with luggage in tow.

"Welcome to Zimbabwe! Can I take your luggage?"

"Oh no thanks, Mate. I think we'll take it from here." The tall African man nodded in approval, as he made his way around to the other side of the van.

"You never want to trust these people around your equipment unsupervised."

"And why's that?" I asked in amusement.

"Because John doesn't know what the hell he's talking about…" Dan muttered under his breath.

"Gosh, do you two ever quit. You've been at each other's throats from the beginning!"

"Oh, you know it's all in good fun! Right?" John questioned, as he grabbed Dan around the neck happily.

"Whatever you want to believe" Dan stated flatly, as he removed John's arm from around him and bent down to pick up my bags.

"See, he cares for me. I know it" John muttered in a teasing tone, as he opened up the side door and plopped himself down on a back seat.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It was only about a thirty minute drive from the airport to the hotel in Harare. The outside of the building was quite lavish with marble pillars lining the sides of the entrance.

"We're here!" John shouted in an eerie tone. We all piled out of the van, grabbed our things from the back, and proceeded to make our way to the entrance. The inside of the hotel was much more spectacular than the outside. Marble cascaded the floors and the stairway leading up to the various rooms. Beautiful flower arrangements were placed in every corner of the large lobby and fruit baskets were randomly scattered about. When I looked up towards the ceiling, a mural of a woman sitting next to a water fountain stared down at me.

"This place is beautiful."

"Tell me about it." I looked over to find Dan looking up at the very thing I was just staring at.

"We should go get settled, yah?" John inquired, as he marched over to us.

"Sure" we both chimed, as we all slowly made our way up stairs.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"So, what are we going to be doing tomorrow?" I giggled, as I set my wine glass down.

"Oh, just the usual procedure stuff. Dan and I are supposed to go over the rules with you and then, we prepare our equipment, and---" John stopped in mid-sentence, as I began laughing uncontrollably.

"I'm—so—rry…" I managed to get out, as I held up my hand apologetically. I continued to spit out random fits of laughter, as I reached for the bottle of wine. Dan's strong hand reached over and stopped me halfway.

"I think you've had enough to drink. Why don't we get you to bed, yah?" I shook my head in protest, as I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn't want to go to bed. In my mind, everything was running smoothly and the only thing getting in the way of my fun was an "authoritarian" by the name of Dan.

"Yes, come on." He lifted me under the arms, as I groaned in protest.

"You should listen to him love. You're going to have a nasty headache tomorrow morn'in if you don't get some sleep." Finally, I gave in, as I wrapped my arms around Dan's neck. He carried me back into the hotel room with one hand placed on the small of my back and the other scooped under my legs. Laying me down on the closet bed, I began to groan again.

"I don't want to go…" I trailed off, as the alcohol overtook my thought process.

"Shhh…get some rest, yah?" I drifted off into a deep sleep, as I could faintly hear Dan's footsteps disappear out onto the patio.

----------------------------------------------------

"How are you feel'in today, love?" I could hear John bellow, as I stumbled out onto the patio. Shielding my eyes from the blindingly light, I faulted back to feel a stiff body behind me.

"Whoa now, watch your balance, yah?" I slowly turned around, clinging to the life form. I could faintly smell his cologne on his blue buttoned-down shirt, as I continued to bury my face into his chest. There was another smell though; something that no one in the world could have reproduced or bottled; it was his scent.

"Are you alright, dear?" I peered up to find a very bewildered Dan peering back at me. I shook my head and clung onto him tighter.

"Maybe, we should get you back to bed, yah?" With one swift movement, Dan lifted me into his arms and proceeded to walk into the bedroom. I could feel his chest slowly move up and down, ever so slightly tickling the side of my face. Once he reached the twin bed, Dan gently set me down and pulled the covers over top of me.

"Just rest alright. I'll be back to check in on you in a bit." His hand gently grazed over the side of my cheek and brushed back a strand of hair. I couldn't help but smile as I heard his footsteps disappear once more.


	5. A Crying Matter

I woke up to the feeling much like being hit by a bus. The pain shot through my temples and reflected over my eye lids, causing me to wince at any glare of light. Glancing down at the clock, I realized I had been sleeping for five hours. _You really did it this time_, I thought to myself. I couldn't remember the last time I got so drunk. There was that time I escaped one of Grandmother's parties to go hang out with this guy named Logan in a back room once; but we just had a few drinks and talked. All in all, my life was boring and I had never really taken to many chances or ever been that intimate with a guy for that matter. Jesse was the first guy I ever kissed back in the ninth grade. We were friends all throughout high school and college. When I thought back to all the happy times with Jesse and Janet, tears began to spill from my eyes. I gradually brought my hand up to my smooth cheek and brushed them away. _You wouldn't want them to see you crying. That would just complicate things._ I thought to myself again.

After a while, I heaved myself off of the bed and stumbled over to the bathroom. _Wow did the room get bigger or something._ I kept walking, groaning along the way, as I managed to step on a suitcase and a hair brush.

Flipping the lights on, I let out a deep sigh as I cursed under my breath. I felt like crap. Every muscle in my body begged for me to sit down and curl up into a little ball. Staring into the mirror with half-open eyes, I saw hell look back at me. My face was pure white and my eyes were bloodshot. My beautiful long hazel locks were soaked with sweat and on top of all that, my breathe smelled horrible. Turning on the faucet, I splashed water over my face and rubbed it down my neck, trying to put some color back into my complexion. I was tired; tired of feeling like the world weighed on my shoulders. I didn't really know what I was so mad at. I guess, I hated the way John and Dan left me in the hotel room. The way I'd be leaving tomorrow to live in the middle of nowhere for three weeks. And finally, the way I'd have to put up with a guy Tristan Dugrey who didn't even want me at the relief camp.

"You alright, love?" It was John's voice that asked the question. I shook my head without looking up and began to sob. For some reason, the mixture of jetlag, ruminants of alcohol, and frustration poured out of me.

"I'm—sorry" I managed to get out, before I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment.

"Oh, there's nothing to be sorry about. You're just out of it. I knew giving you a bevy would cause problems…" his voice trailed off, as he walked behind me and placed his arms around me.

"Shhh…let it out, love. It's alright to cry." I sobbed harder upon hearing this and clutched my hands around the arms that surrounded me. They were not strong like Dan's arms or Jesse's for that matter, but they provided plenty of comfort anyhow.

"Thanks…" I stuttered, trying to gain control over my breathing. I was hyperventilating, as my chest launched out and caved-in, in rapid movements.

"Shhh…calm your self" John whispered into my ear. My grip around his arms slowly loosened, as I opened my eyes. Staring into the mirror was an unforgettable moment. I saw a scared girl with tear-stained eyes being held by a thin male, who had so much concern and compassion reflected in his expression.

"Feel better?" His voice hummed in my ear, as I closed my eyes once more and slowly nodded my head.

Today was the day that we would drive to the relief camp. It would take us about three and a half hours, and a load of persuasion along the way in order to make it out there.

"You got to bring a lot of U.S. currency when you go on these expeditions because you never know who you'll meet." Dan continued to clean off the lens on his camera, as he looked toward my direction. He wore tan hiking boots and blue shorts. His white button-down shirt was much too big for him, as the sleeves surpassed his hands.

"All I brought was two hundred dollars in tens" I said in response, as I reached into the back pocket of my khaki pants.

"That'll do. You don't need much to bribe these guys. Maybe just a jackass who knows how to bargain."

"Hey! In some odd way, I think I resent that comment" John spat, as he threw his backpack into the jeep.

"So, is everyone ready?" a man in a bright green shirt barked. His complexion was dark as night and the whites of his eyes were the only things that disrupted the natural pigment of his body.

"Yep. That should be it" Dan retorted in a distant tone, as he continued to examine the lens.

"Alright then. Some ground rules: no one is to exit the vehicle unless I say so. Do not wave, do not talk, do not even stare at the people you pass along the way, got that?" We all nodded in response.

"Good. If we do get stopped, do not say a word unless asked and let me do all the talking. This is a fairly long trip and we may encounter wild animals along the way. I do not suggest that any of you eat once we leave Harare—"

"—And why's that?" I cut in.

"Because, you never know where the lion is hiding until it bites off your head. I scrunched my face up in disgust, as John and Dan began to laugh amongst themselves. I knew at that moment, that there was no way to turn back. Once I got into the vehicle, I would be trapped for three weeks, without anything connecting me to the outside world.

"Asta La Vista…" I mumbled to myself, as I looked around at my surroundings one last time. I glanced over at the elegant hotel entrance with its columns and a flower garden right up front. I looked over at the Americans and Canadians leaving and entering the hotel. This was it; and there was no way of stopping it.


	6. The Relief Camp

"Rory…wake up love." I slowly sprung out of my deep slumber to find John's face cowering over me.

"Are we there yet?" I inquired in a groggy voice. He didn't have time to answer me, as Dan came into view and slid his hand under my head.

"Sorry, you're sleeping on my jacket." I lifted up my head, as to let Dan slide his jacket out from under me.

"Still on it…" he continued.

"Fine" I blurted out in an irritated voice, as I shifted my entire body up and leaned over to open the door. Sweat was sweltering off my body, as the sun continued to penetrate every inch of me that wasn't covered by clothing.

"Oh, bloody hell…" I could hear John yell from behind me, as I watched two figures walk up past the sand dunes towards our direction.

"Are you the guys from the National Geographic?" the one yelled. He had on a dark crimson t-shirt and khaki shorts. His entire face was consumed by his red beard and his eyes were hidden under the gray baseball cap that was placed over top his head.

"Yah, that's us" Dan yelled back in a rather agitated voice. I guessed from the sharp, quick movements that John and Dan were making, that they weren't very fond of these "sorts" of people. A young woman was walking next to the bearded man. Her long blonde hair was scooped back into a pony tail and her bony body showed clearly through her tight, form-fitting clothes. It took me aback that such a pretty woman like herself would be in a place such as this.

Sand covered the area for miles. I could barely make out the few trees and some greenery that grew about one hundred miles into the distance. We were definitely isolated from everyone else and the tense atmosphere made it clear, that no one in the group was too fond of these circumstances.

The two figures finally came close enough to visibly see up-close. The woman had pretty green eyes and the man had dull brown ones. He was a little over weight and looked out of character next to the slender figure beside him.

"I'm Matt and this is Domini. We work with Doctors without borders, a non-profit organization, as I'm sure you already know. Why don't we take you inside the camp now, since it isn't that safe to stay out here."

John and Dan continued to unload their stuff, as Matt and Domini tried to carry all that would fit in their arms. It was about a mile walk from where we parked to the entrance of the camp. I wondered why our driver wouldn't drive up to the entrance, and soon found out that if he had, he would have been kidnapped or murdered. There were a lot of issues going on with the United States government and the Zimbabwean government regarding a gold strike along the Western part of the country. If our driver had been seen near the relief camp, rebels would have mistaken him as a trader and done unspeakable things to him.

We continued to walk under the scorching sun, until we reached a fence that ran for a couple of miles. Knocking on the door twice, an older balding man opened the gate, unsure of what to expect on the other side. Once reassured that there was no danger, he opened both gates and led us into the grounds. I was shocked to find women, children, and men sitting about under huts and tents. Some people ran around half clothed, not really paying attention to the new comers that had just intruded upon their territory.

"Oh my God…" I began in a soft voice.

"Don't tell me, you've never seen this before?" I shook my head and John chuckled.

"I guess there's a first time for everything." Thunder rumbled in the sky, as all three of us were lead under a massive tent where two young men were operating on an elderly African woman.

"Can you pass me the scalpel, please" the young man with various shades of blonde hair commanded. His cheeks were sunburned, despite the rest of his tanned complexion. His white buttoned-down shirt clung to his chest, revealing the muscular body underneath. Faint moans and groans came from the woman on the operating table, as the blonde haired man continued to make incisions into her skin.

"Is she even drugged?" I demanded in horror, as I watched the terribly grotesque scene unfold. The young man with tussled blonde hair looked up to meet my eyes. I was shocked to see how much the color reminded me of how the water in the New England Harbor appeared before a storm. He continued to stare at me intently, as the groans from the patient on the operating table continued. It was too much to bear.

"Who is this?" the man inquired, as he dropped his gaze and continued with his work.

"This is the crew from the National Geographic. We got a notice about this a week ago, remember?" The blonde haired man didn't respond, as he turned around and grabbed a spool of thread from behind him.

"What do you think this is?" he spat in an irritated tone.

"It's not like we're in some public hospital, where everyone is given morphine or sedatives for the pain. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we don't have that here." My cheeks turned red, as I dropped my gaze. _How could he be so cruel_? I thought to myself.

"So where should we put our stuff?" Dan asked in a gruff voice. I could see by his foot tapping on the dirt floor that he wasn't willing to just stand around.

"Domini, can you go and show our guests their sleeping quarters?" The young woman nodded in affirmation, as she walked out from under the tent and looked back at us with a smile.

"Right this way." I turned to go before a voice behind me, stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh and don't expect the Ritz hotel or anything. You'll get a sleeping bag on the ground and a pillow." I blinked once or twice before giving a quick glance behind me. The man continued to work on his patient, not expecting to get a reply. However, I wasn't going to let him win that easily. No one was going to mistake me for some spoiled brat and get away with it.

"You're Tristan Dugrey, right?" The man didn't look up. His hands diligently continued to work with the task at hand.

"Who wants to know?"

"You know, they told me about you and I must say, I have to agree with them. You are really a jerk." I whipped around and marched out of tent, not even taking a look behind me to see if he reacted to my comment or not.

The rain began to fall steadily, as all three of us carried our luggage with difficulty. Small children sat around laughing and singing; some were dancing to the sound of a drum, and others were just staring off into the distance with blank stares.

"This is breaking my heart…" I whispered. Dan and John both looked over in my direction, before returning their gaze back to the ground.

"Here's the first tent, so you sir can put your stuff inside here." John smiled at the young woman, as he squeezed past Dan and me.

"Good luck mates. I guess I'll see you during dinner!"

"And if you two will continue to follow me." Dan and I both followed Domini's instructions and walked along side one of the massive tents, that I assumed to be where everyone ate their meals.

"You dear, will get this tent." I grinned, as I glanced over at the small living space.

"Home sweet home."

"I'll see you in a bit, yah?" I nodded, as I watched Domini lead Dan past a row of tents. Pushing back the flap, I could visibly see a green sleeping bag laid out on the ground and a lantern placed in the corner. Relieved, I set down my duffle bags and placed my hands on my hips.

"What to do, what to do?" I mumbled to myself. Glancing at the bags I just set down, I decided to take out my notepad and begin to write.

"_The faces of these helpless individuals…_" I began, but then stopped. _That's way too cheesy_, I thought to myself.

"_The African culture can be summed up in one word…_" I started to write again. _But that doesn't sound right either_, I argued with myself inside my mind.

"Hey!" John called, as he pulled back the flap to my tent and climbed inside.

"This is a cozy little spot ya have here."

"Yah, I guess." John smiled, as he examined his fingernail.

"So are you ready to eat?" I looked up suddenly and nodded with eagerness.

"I'm starving! Are they serving meals right now?"

"Yah. We should go find Dan and see if he'll tag along with us." We both made our way outside the tent, as the rain started to come down in thick sheets. I gasped.

"It's pouring, John! Run, run…" my voice trailed off, as I jogged behind him and took refuge under the closest tent.

"You look drenched" a voice from behind me yelled over the loud commotion going on behind him. It was the red bearded man named Matt. I flashed him a quick smile, as I examined my wet clothes and sopping wet hair that laid flat against my chest.

"If you guys are hungry, you can get food from up at the end of the camp. That's usually where all the relief workers and volunteers go to eat." I let out a small groan, as I examined the distance from the tent in which we were currently under to the tent a fourth of a mile away. There was no shelter between these two points and even if we ran, John and I would still get soaked to the bone.

"What do you say?" Matt bellowed behind us in a cheery voice.

"Oh, what the hell!" John finally gave in and counted to three.

"One, two—" he began.

"Wait John, I'm not ready—"

"THREE!" John darted out into the rain, as I closed my eyes and followed suit. I kept on reminding myself that I was already wet and a little more rain wouldn't change much. However, as I continued to run further and further into the open area, the positive and reassuring sensation disappeared.

"You got me into this John!" I yelled from behind him in anger.

"What?"

"I said—you—got me into this!" I could hear him chuckle, as I continued to slosh through the mud. The tent finally became visible, as I made one last effort to dash across the muddy ground. Unfortunately, I ran with so much speed that I slid forward under the tent and slammed into another person. My arms flew out in front of me grabbing on to the individual's waist.

"I'm sooo sorry…" I stammered, as I tried to pull myself back up. I could hear John laughing in the background, as a powerful arm tore me from them.

"Watch where you're going" he muttered, as he took a step back from me and examined my mud-caked body. I looked up to realize one of my worst fears. It was Tristan Dugrey; the very jerk that made me feel like I was mere dirt under his shoe.

"I said I was sorry" I said defensively. He just let out a sigh of frustration and walked away.

"Are you alright love?" John questioned with amusement in his voice.

"Why does that Dugrey guy have to be such a...a..."

"A jerk?"

"Yah, a jerk!" I shouted with clenched fists. A few people turned to look at me, as I could feel my face begin to burn.

"What did I do to deserve this?" John just rubbed the small of my back and smiled.

"You'll be fine, once you have some hot food in ya." I nodded in affirmation, as he led me over to the line of people waiting to receive their meals.

After a few minutes of waiting and decision making, I was finally ready to find a place to sit and chow down.

"Do you see anywhere to sit?" I asked glancing around the tent enclosure.

"How about over there?" I looked over to where John's fingers were pointing and began to walk in that direction. Right when I was about to set my tray onto the table, Tristan Dugrey slid into the chair and began talking to girl sitting on the other side.

"Whaaa---" I muttered in disbelief. Hearing my faint protest, he stood up, straddled his chair and peered up at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We're you about to take this spot?" I watched as a grin formed on his lips.

"If you'd like to know, then yes. I was looking to take that spot and the seat next to it." His grin turned into a full fledged smile, as he let out a little snicker.

"I don't care and that's too bad." My eyes widened, as my mouth fell open in response to his harsh, but blunt statement. Rage over took every part of my body. All I wanted was to teach this self-conceited pig a lesson; and I knew just what to do.

"Oh really…" I muttered with a small smirk. Then with one lift of my hand, I poured my coffee over top of his head. I could hear him gasp in astonishment, as he stood straight up.

"On second thought…you can have that seat. It appears to be all wet." I walked away with a toss of my wet locks and proceeded to find another seat. As I made my move to try and disconnect myself from the very act that I had just committed, I could feel Tristan's eyes burning a hole through my back. It made me wince a little at the thought. But then again, that's exactly how I liked it.


	7. A Difficult Encounter

_Hey you all: Hopefully this chapter isn't too bad. I tried to incorporate more Rory and Tristan run-ins in this chapter. There is a little more danger and excitement, so enjoy. I'm always open to reviews, so review away! That way, I'll know whether I should continue or not:) Thanks_

I woke up the next morning to sounds of screaming and yelling outside my tent. _What the hec is going on out there?_ I thought to myself, as I quickly scrabbled up and threw on a white long-sleeved shirt over my head. Pulling back the flap, I saw people running all over the place, dodging into tents and running down towards the end of the camp. Then, it became visible what all the commotion was about. An army tank rammed through the crowds of people and pointed its long missile-launcher right at a man standing under the main kitchen tent. An African man smoking a cigarette and wearing a green uniform stepped down from off the monster machine and looked around sharply. He appeared to be some kind of officer or commander.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tristan yelled in rage.

"Are you the head of this camp?" the commander barked back.

"You cannot barge in here like this! We have a binding contract that states—"

"You're binding contract means shit to me!" the commander shot back. Two other men wearing a similar uniform to that of their commanding officer climbed out of the top of the army tank and stepped down, inching closer to Tristan. I couldn't take this anymore, so I decided to make a move.

"What is going on here?" I demanded, as I made my way over to Tristan.

"Who is this?" the Commander roared.

"No one---look, go back to your tent and stay out of this!" Tristan tried to push me aside, but I kept my feet firmly on the ground.

"Sir, my name is Rory Gilmore and I am with the executive division of the UN headquarters in England. I demand to know what is going on here." Tristan glared back at me in shock, as he deeply inhaled.

"You are from England, yes?" I nodded, as the Commander took a step towards me. Immediately, Tristan got in his path placing his body as a barrier between us.

"She's a Canadian born citizen though. She's just staying with us for a couple of days…" Tristan tried to argue. The commander stared at him with beady black eyes and let out a grunt.

"We have been given word that this camp is holding Zimbabwean traders who negotiated with American officials—"

"That isn't possible…" Tristan cut in, trying to control the situation. The commander took another puff from his cigarette, before throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his black boot.

"We have been given instruction to search the camp" the Commander stated never dropping his gaze from Tristan's eyes.

"Who gives you that authority?" The officer shrugged, as he made signals for the two men behind him to move forward. Tristan immediately stopped them in their tracks and pleaded with the Commander.

"Sir, you cannot do this! Who gives you authorization?" Again, the Commander did not answer, as he sauntered over to where I was standing.

"You are a very pretty woman, you know that?" I winced at the sound of his voice, as he placed a hand on my arm.

"Your people come into my country and cause problems for my people—" the commander continued. His fingers brushed down my side and back up my arm again. My breath cut short in my throat, as I shut my eyes trying to block out this sick feeling coming over me.

"As I told you—I'm Canadian…" I stammered in a hoarse voice. I opened my eyes to see the Commander an inch away from my face. Panicking, I took a step back to feel him grab me forcefully with both hands.

"Okay, I think that's enough!" Tristan broke in, as he pulled me back from his grasp and held me in his arms.

"You have no paperwork, no proof of identification...I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The commander looked at him in fury, as he stared over at me.

"NO! We will stay the day and night at this camp. My men will search top and bottom for these traders. And if you try and stop me—" the commander leaned in closer towards Tristan's face—"You'll regret it." Then with that, he gave me a once look over and smirked. I gripped tighter to Tristan's shirt, as I could feel my breathing speed up. I was scared; scared that this unknown commander could actually hurt me in some way.

"Are you okay?" Tristan demanded in a gruff voice. I nodded, as I slowly detached myself from him.

"What was that all about?! Were you trying to get us all killed?" He yelled in frustration, as he ran his fingers through his hair. I watched as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Dammit!" he shouted, kicking the army tank in front of him.

"I'm sorry…" I managed to whisper, as I watched him glare over at me.

"Well sometimes, that just isn't good enough…" He marched right past me, as I could feel my eyes narrowing in disbelief. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. _What have I done?_ I thought to myself. _What have I done._

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For the rest of the day, I stayed near Dan and John for fear that the commander I met this morning would make me one of his many targets. Men in green uniforms were spotted everywhere carrying machine guns and machetes in their side belt loops. It was a frightening scene watching them patrol around with merciless expressions on their faces. One soldier in particular was slapping a woman, barking questions at her in a language foreign to me.

"Stop it!" I yelled at him, as I grabbed the man's hand before it landed on the helpless figure. He flipped around and grabbed me by the arms, shaking me violently. Dan and John rushed to my side, as they pushed the soldier back yelling threats:

"You bloody worthless piece of vermin, you dare touch her I'll…" John bellowed in anger, as he continued to push back the man.

"Are you alright?" I asked in a soft voice, as I extended my hand out to the woman shaking on the ground. She looked up at me in confusion, as she tried to stand up.

"Here you go…" I wrapped my arm around her for support, as I made my way out of the tent with her. We walked for about two minutes before we reached the infirmary tent. Doctors and volunteers were working diligently inside, giving no notice to our entry. I tapped the nearest person I could find on the shoulder pleading for help.

"Sir, she's injured pretty badly. This man was beating her—" The person cut me off with a bewildered stare and rubbed their forehead, allowing blood to smear across it.

"Try the west-wing of the tent" he muttered slowly. I nodded and continued to help to carry the poor woman to the far-end of the tent.

"Please…this woman needs help!" I shouted breathlessly. An arm came to relieve the weight from my shoulder and led the woman to a nearby examining table. It was Matt, the red bearded guy I had met before.

"Thanks" I lazily said, as I flashed him a quick smile. He only nodded and pulled out a roll of gauze and a bowl.

"Could you go and fetch me some water from the water pump over there?" I nodded in affirmation and grabbed the bowl from off the table. Running over to the pump, I lifted up the elbow of it and watched as cool water gushed out of the spicket.

"Here you go…" I belted, as I carefully handed the bowl back to Matt. But to my dismay, there were two people standing at the operating table; a jolly Matt and a chauvinistic Tristan. Not delighted by the sight of me, Tristan said nothing, as he dipped a rag into the bowl of water and began to rub the wounds clean.

"Will she be alright?" I tried to direct towards Matt, but unfortunately, was answered by Tristan.

"She has some pretty deep wounds on her back and a broken jaw bone, but other then that, she should be okay." I let out a sigh out relief, as I ran my fingers through my hair. I watched as Tristan carefully ran his fingers around the sore areas of the woman's body. He was so gentle, as if he was afraid that she'd break if he applied any pressure. His longish strands of blond hair fell over his stormy blue eyes, as he intently focused on the woman's wounds.

"I'm sorry" was all I could say to him, as I watched Tristan's eyes shoot up.

"About…" he motioned for me to continue.

"For spilling coffee on top of you last night and for almost getting both of us killed this morning." He grinned at those last words, as he set the wet rag down and grabbed the gauze.

"Now, you know I wouldn't have let that happen." I smiled, as I could feel myself blush. Maybe Tristan Dugrey wasn't so bad after all.

_I know the ending to this chapter wasn't great, but tell me what you think anyways! In the next chapter, you'll get introduced to a soccer play named Mcgaven Harris, who comes to the relief camp for celebrity endorsements. He's trying to appear to be the caring rich guy by hanging out for a few days with needy individuals. Turns out, Tristan doesn't like him very much for **certain reasons**, and Rory might know him from **the past**. I'll update when I can:) BYEEEE---_

_Brittany_


	8. Do you know the Lambda?

_Hey: While you're reading this chapter, open another internet window and go to this webiste: It's a yahoo launch_ _music site. Look for the song called **Guajira **by Yerba Buena. I think it goes along really well with the spanish theme in this chapter. Just play it while you're reading and see if it reflects the mode:) TTYL_

_----------------------------------------------------------_

I was sitting on a sandy hill overlooking the camp. It was dark and the only things visible were the bonfires scattered about and the hundreds of tiny lanterns hung outside the tents. It was a peaceful and sad sight at the same time. I could hear children singing in a language I only wished I knew. The stars, the moon, everything was so at rest in that moment of time.

"Catching the view?" I turned around to see Tristan's sleepy eyes peering back at me.

"Yah. It's incredible up here…" my voice trailed off, as I surveyed the entire camp once more. I loved it here; I loved everything about the night life and the people who held so much faith in better times to come. Tristan made a move to sit next to me on the ground, as I shifted over slightly.

"So, you're from England, right?" I nodded, as a smile wiped on my face.

"Well, according to the little episode that happened today, I'm from Canada." Tristan let out a little chuckle and looked down the side of the hill.

"You would have been dead, if I hadn't have introduced that little bit of information." The smile on my face faded, as I let out a sigh.

"Where about in England are you from?" I gazed over at him with narrowed eyes, as I scrunched my forehead. _Is Tristan Dugrey actually asking where I'm from? Wow, this is a shocker!_ I thought to myself.

"London, but that's not where I was born. When my mom died---" I started slowly-"my grandparents moved me from StarsHollow, Connecticut to London. I guess they thought it would be less painful…" my throat began to seize up, as I took in how much personal information I had just shared. Tristan remained quiet, as he continued to gaze out into the night sky.

"I lived in London for a while, but moved to New Castle shortly after" he stated bluntly, as if what I had just said was nothing to pay much attention to.

"Oh, what for?" I questioned quietly, not looking at him. Silence only followed before he stood up next to me.

"You're not comfortable talking to me, I can tell." I looked up with my pale blue eyes to meet his cloudy ones.

"Hey, I'm not the one making it difficult! It's like you have nothing to share or nothing that you want to say for that matter. If it's anyone who's uncomfortable, it's you…" He looked out into the distance and licked his lips. I watched as his eyes slowly closed and hands made their way to his hips. Before letting out a sigh, he opened them again and looked down at me.

"Have you ever done the lambda before?" I looked at him in confusion, as I started to stand up.

"Where did that come from—"

"Look—" he cut in—"I'm trying to make conversation, so if you'd just answer my question, I'd appreciate it." I could see the overwhelming frustration in his face and it made me smile. He was actually taking my suggestion into account.

"No, I haven't" I said steadily, letting out a little giggle. Tristan took another deep breath before advancing towards me and grabbing my arm.

"What are you doing?" I asked bewilderingly, as I pulled my arm away.

"Trying to teach you to dance…" was all he managed to get out.

"Oh…" I whispered in response, as I started to giggle again. He cautiously took a hold of my hand and placed it on top of his shoulder. Then with the other, he held my hand in his.

"Now you take one step forward with your left foot, as I move back with my right, alright?" he stated in a curt tone. I nodded, taking one step forward.

"Now lean forward on your left foot and step off to the right side with your right foot." I followed his instructions, but unfortunately, I ended up stepping on his feet.

"Sorry…" I managed to squeak, as I put my hands to my mouth.

"Rule number one, pay attention to what you are doing. And rule number two, finish what you start." I nodded, as I placed my hands back in their respective stance, one on his shoulder and one intertwined in his fingers.

"Let's try this again…"

"So where did you learn how to dance like this?" I inquired in an amused tone.

"When you've been in as many discotheques as I've been in, you pick up on it." I began to wonder what would ever cause this anti-social person to go out dancing at clubs. I finally began to get the hang of the steps, but then it became time to learn how to incorporate the movements.

"First, you have to sway your hips like this" he directed, as he placed his warm hands on my waist.

"Now just in a circular motion." I followed suit trying to make a circle, but ending more with a square.

"You're too stiff…" he started off.

"I'm too stiff!" I stated with protest.

"Just listen alright?" His voice was incredibly low, as he tried to move my hips once more in the formation of a circle.

"That's better…" he whispered. I peered up to find his face dangerously close to mine. His eyes were gazing down at my waist, not taking much notice to the fact that we were standing mere inches apart.

"Tristan…" I whispered his name as to get his attention. Distracted, he looked up realizing the distance between us. Then he stopped, his hands rested on my hips and his feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

"Twirl"

"What?" Before I had time to realize what was happening, he spun me about and caught me back in his arms. I was pressed against him, my fingers clinging to his shirt for support and even deeper than that; his bare skin. I could feel the movement of his chest steadily rise up and down with each breath. He was in total control and he knew that. I tried to separate myself from him, but I found my body not wanting to move. My breathing sped up as I moved my face closer to his. He licked his lips before pushing my hips back and disconnecting us from one another.

"And that is how you do the lambda…" he whispered. I watched in reluctance, as he walked down the hill and back towards camp. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. I knew that the times from here on out, would not be easy with _that_ guy around. And all I could manage to do was grin.

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_Hey guys:) Review, if you liked this chapter. Sorry, I guess I'm not going to introduce Mcgaven Harris until the next chapter!! Be prepared, he's a hottie for all you soccer-player-lovers. TTYL_

_Brittany_


	9. The Commander

_Sorry guys. No Mcgaven Harris in this chapter either:) I guess, he'll be in either the next one or two chapters. Hope you enjoy this one. Rory is definitely in for a scare! Review please, you know I always appreciate it. I'm open to any plot suggestions or good/bad criticism. TTYL_

I slept uneasily that night, worried not only about the men in uniform roaming around, but also because of what happened up on the hill with Tristan. I kept on reciting our conversation over in my head; the way he put his hands on my waist and the way he held me at the end of the dance. I burrowed my head deeper into the pillow, as I groaned. _You don't like him. You don't like him. You don't like him. Or do you? _I questioned myself inside my head. _That can't be possible._ I argued in defense.

I heard footsteps outside my tent and began to freeze up. The steps continued for a brief moment and then, stopped.

"What the hec?" I mumbled to myself, steadily watching the opening of the tent warily. When the noise died away, I closed my eyes, as sleep beckoned me. Then, without any warning, a hand pressed against my mouth, as my eyes flew open. A figure swung my body out of the sleeping bag and carried me outside. The cold night air bit my exposed skin, as I was dragged reluctantly to a nearby hut. I could tell by the man's outfit, that it was one of the soldiers. Kicking and thrashing, I tried to free myself from the man's grasp. But all he did in response was pull back my head by my hair and spit in my face. I could see some of the refugees staring at us, as I was being pulled along forcefully.

"Help!" I screamed into his hand, but none of the people standing there seemed to notice anything wrong. Once we reached the entrance to the hut, the soldier knocked quietly on the door. It flew open and standing there was the Commander. I was thrown down onto the ground, as I attempted to scream out. The commander got down on one knee and slapped me across the face, shutting me up for a brief second.

"You are an American!" he shouted at me.

"No...I'm a Canadian!" I yelled back in fear. The Commander's eyes grew darker, as he barked a command in his native language to one of the men standing behind him.

"Shut up!" he roared at my whimpering. "My men say they saw your passport when you entered this country." I shut my eyes, as my breathing began to get faster. My body began to shake, as I gulped.

"You are a liar!" he screamed in my ear. Then his voice got incredibly low, as he ran his fingers down my face.

"And do you know what we do to liars…" I could feel his hands move down my chest and grip tightly around my waist.

"No!" I shrieked in desperation. "Please…"

I began to cry, as tears flowed down my cheeks. His hands continued down my body and stopped when they reached my legs. I could smell the sweat reeking off of his clothes. It was enough to make me sick. The commander attempted to kiss my face, but I scooted my head off to the side.

"Too bad there's no one here to hear you scream!" he whispered, as he laughed mischievously. Then with one thrust of his hand, he pulled apart my legs. A hot stream of tears continued to flow down my face, burning my eyes. _I have to do something!_ I thought to myself in panic. Then, with one hard blow, I kneed him where it counted and scrambled up. The Commander fell forward trying to grasp my arm, as I lunged for the door. It was too late though. I had managed to get it open and ran out into the night.

Running and screaming, I was finally caught by a person dashing out of their tent. It was Matt, the red bearded man. Then, the next person to follow was Tristan.

"Whoa…what's the matter?!" Matt yelled trying to calm me down. I was at a loss for words, as the tears continued to choke me. I gasped for air placing my hand on top of my chest. I couldn't breathe.

"What's going on?" Tristan called from behind Matt. Once he realized my traumatized state, he grabbed a hold of me and wrapped his arms around me.

"What's the matter?" he said with a little compassion in his voice. I only pushed myself tighter against him, as my arms desparately clung around his neck. I could smell the scent of lavender soap, as I closed my eyes realizing how much I really wanted to be tangled up in his arms.

"Shhh…" he whispered into my ear. Then, with little force, he detached me from him and demanded to know what happened.

"He---kn-ows…" I stuttered, as I continued to sob uncontrollably.

"What does he know?" Tristan tried again. I shook my head, as he put his hands on both sides of my face to make me still. I could see his eyes filled with so much concern and confusion.

"The commander---he tried—he tried to rape me…" I clung onto him and let out a sob, as I continued. "He knows—I'm an Am-erican." That was all that Tristan needed to know, as he called for Matt to hold me for a second. I lifted my arms from around Tristan and moved them around Matt, as I watched Tristan run inside the tent. A few seconds later, he came out holding a gun.

"It's alright dear…" Matt tried to coo sympathetically. I pulled myself away from him, as I stepped into Tristan's path.

"What are doing? I managed to ask in confusion. I could see rage in his cloudy blue eyes, as he casted his gaze off to the side.

"Tristan, please..." I pleaded, as I used my sleeve to wipe the tears away from my face. He just pushed me aside gently and yelled behind him as he walked:

"Stay here."

"Where is he going?" I shouted at Matt in panic.

"Look, that's not important right now---" He attempted to bring me back into the form of a hug, but I pushed myself away from him.

"Tristan…Trist—"

"—Stop" he cut in. I could see by the expression on his face, that he wasn't about to play any games with me.

"Now come inside, we'll take a look at you, okay? No one is going to hurt you." I nodded, as he led me inside the large white tent.

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A few hours later, I heard the flap being pulled back on the tent. I didn't rise or lift my eyes to see who it was because I knew who it was. It was Tristan. Matt continued stroking my hair, as he sat up.

"Are they gone?" Matt whispered, trying not to get me all flustered. Little did he know, I wasn't asleep.

"Yah. I took care of it." He set the gun on top of the table and gazed over at me. My gaze didn't shift or move from the ground though. I didn't want to talk, didn't want to move, didn't want to have to deal with anything. I stared blankly off into the distance, as Tristan paced over to my side.

"I'll leave you two alone." Matt whispered, as he shifted his weight off the cot and walked out of the tent. Tristan continued to stand beside me, just peering down at my face. I closed my eyes, as I let out a groan.

"What is it?" he murmured softly. I watched, as he squatted down to my eye level and ran his fingers through my hair.

"What did you do Tristan?" He just licked his lips and ran the back of his hand down the side of my face.

"I really don't think that's important right now." I closed my eyes, as a tear ran down my cheek.

"You can't pretend like nothing happened." I lifted myself up in anger and tried to swing my legs off the cot, but was stopped by Tristan's gentle hand against my face.

"I'm not pretending..." was all he muttered. I looked into his eyes lost and wanting more then anything for him to just hold me. I was tired and so vunerable at that moment. I bit my lip, as he ran his finger tips from the side of my face to the corner of my mouth. I let out a slow breath, as I allowed him to bring his face closer to mine.

"Tristan..." I started, but was suddenly stopped.

"Don't" was all he whispered. He then pressed his lips against mine and inhaled, as if he was sucking my very essense from me. I wanted him more then anything at that second, as I ran my fingers through his hair and tried to push him closer. I let out a soft groan, as he leaned backwards, firmly grabbing my hips. I shifted my weight down towards him, as he slowly kissed me down my neck. Softly whispering his name in his ear, I could feel him shutter, as he pulled away.

"Rory--we can't..." I licked my lips and casted my eyes to the ground. Letting out a sigh, I shoke my head.

"I'm sorry...it was out of line." He just nodded and stood up.

"Get some rest." I watched him casually walk out of the tent, grabbing onto the pole above the entrance way before he left. I closed my eyes and brushed my lips.

"Goodnight to you too, Tristan" I mumbled to myself before falling back against the covers.


	10. Mcgaven Harris

I woke up reluctantly the next morning, hiding my face under the covers, as I attempted to shield myself from the morning light. Even though I was sleeping on a cot, I felt like I was on top of one of the most comfortable beds in the world. I sleepily closed my eyes once more, not wanting to think about the day ahead or the things that I had to get done. And I especially didn't want to come to grips with what happened last night. I felt very safe and peaceful lying there, listening to people walk by outside the tent. It was comforting to know that I wasn't alone and that there were others who cared about me, surprisingly enough.

Gliding my fingers through my hair, I pulled back my hand in disgust. The truth was that I needed a shower; badly. Unwillingly throwing off the warm covers, I rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the entrance of the tent. Refugees were swarming around everywhere, as I pulled back the flap and let the sun shine upon me.

"Now, to go and take a shower…" I mumbled to myself, as I saw John conversing with some little boy playing with a rubber ball.

"John!" I called, jogging over to where he stood.

"Ahh, there you are! Love, they told me what happened last night and I nearly blew a gasket…I mean, what kind of sickho would hurt such an innocent girl—"

"John?" I cut in hurriedly, as I crossed my arms about my chest. I suddenly felt self-conscious just wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and sofies. Ignoring my interruption, he continued.

"If I was that guy, I would shoot myself right now! I mean, the absolute nerve of the whole thing—"

"Ah, John?"

"I mean you must admit, it is a little odd---"

"JOHN!" I shouted at him, as he took a step back in surprise.

"Geeze…not much of a morning person, are we?"

"Just direct me to the nearest shower and I'll feel better" I barked. John took a step off to the side and nodded.

"Right. Look, if you go down this row of tents, there should be a path that leads to the west side of camp—"

"Thanks!" I yelled before he could finish, as I dashed towards the direction of my tent to retrieve my clothes and shampoo.

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_Where did he say it was again?_ I thought to myself in confusion, as I spun around in search of the shower that supposedly existed on the West side of camp. Then, without reason, I froze. Standing naked inside the shower was Tristan Dugrey. The enclosed cubical that surrounded the small bathing area only went up as high as his waist. I gawked at the muscular body exposed. His arms were extremely well defined and his abs perfectly lined his stomach. I watched as he spun around to show his broad shoulders and toned backside.

_OH MY GOD!_ I thought to myself, as I felt my entire face turn red. I was actually blushing; blushing at the fact that Tristan Dugrey was taking a shower _naked_ mind you, in front of me. I continued to stare for a while, before my worst fears came into reality. Rinsing water over his head, Tristan opened his eyes to find me standing not even fifteen feet away. He just stared at me, not blinking, just letting the water run down his body. With sheer embarrassment, I whipped around clasping my hand against my mouth.

"Oh God, Dammit!" I muttered to myself, as I began walking away. _You were not just staring at him! Oh God, you actually see this guy on a daily basis…you IDIOT!_ I screamed at myself in my head. I sped down the path back into the main part of camp and searched for another shower that wasn't occupied this time.

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Once I was clean and not so grimy, I went back to my tent to brush my hair and apply a light dust of make-up. The whole time, my thoughts were directed back to that encounter near the showers. I was an idiot. It was plain and simple. I stood there. I stared. And I was now paying for it. I couldn't help, but cover my face every time the image popped into my head. It was all just too embarrassing. To take my mind off the entire thing, I decided to interview someone in camp in order to further my story for the next issue of the _National Geographic_. I stopped the first willing candidate, sitting down outside a hut, asking questions. I was playing more charades than anything else.

"Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?" The African man just stared at me blankly, as I shook my head. He obviously didn't speak English.

"Never mind then…" I said getting up, putting on a fake smile before I left. I started walking; where to, I wasn't quite sure. Next thing I knew, I heard voices hollering from all directions, as I watched the front gates leading into the camp open. A large black SUV pulled in with English flags waving on both sides.

"What's going on?" I could hear some of the volunteers say to each other, as the vehicle came to a halt.

"It's the pro-soccer player Mcgaven Harris. He's come to do some celebrity endorsement stuff here. I heard about it from Matt…" one person answered.

"Mcgaven Harris…" I muttered to myself. The name rang a bell, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then, a revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. _No, it can't be!_ My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Tristan pacing up next to the truck. He had a livid look on his face. Volunteers and refugees a like, gathered around to see who the important individual was. Standing still, feet planted firmly on the ground, my breath caught in my throat, as the back door swung open. A shiny leather shoe stepped down onto the ground, as a leg and then, an entire body became visible behind the car door.

He had hair much like Tristan's with various shades of blonde scattered in disarray. Stubble was visible even from where I was standing about thirty feet away. He wore a Northern Rock soccer jersey that clung to his incredibly muscular upper body. Mcgaven was what the media today would call a "God." From his brilliant smile to his charming greenish-blue eyes, Mcgaven Harris had everything you could ever want in a guy, looks-wise anyways. I could hear all the female volunteers behind me gasp and giggle amongst themselves, as they watched Tristan reluctantly greet the handsome man with a hand shake.

"Oh, come on…" John hollered over to the group of girls standing not too far from him.

"What does he have that I don't?" All the girls rolled their eyes, as they continued to ewe and awe over Mcgaven.

"Let's try looks for one, fame for two, and money for three…" Dan bellowed in amusement.

"Oh, put a sock in it—" John spat, as he took a step towards Dan, pretending to swing at him. "Women love me…"

"That's real evident…" Dan mumbled. My lip began to quiver, as I followed Tristan and Mcgaven like a hawk with my eyes. I couldn't help it. Mcgaven sent this chill up and down my spine, that didn't cause a bad feeling necessarily. I had met him once before in similar circumstances, but in a different scene. The famous footballer could have had any girl he wanted. Women would throw themselves at him by seductively running their fingers along his neck or down his forearm. The more boisterous ones would usually come and sit right on top of his lap, pushing their chests right up against his face almost. It made me sick, not because of necessarily the acts they were partaking in; but because, for some strange reason, I envied them. So one night, when Janet and I went to the Spy Glass club in London, we were _lucky_ _enough_ according to everyone else, to see Mcgaven and his entourage enter the place. I was dancing with some random guy, when I got the urge to go and get a drink at the bar. When I got there, seated on top of one of the bar stools was the infamous Mcgaven Harris. I pretended to be the naïve girl who didn't recognize him and he decided to be the striker ready to make a goal. He moved over a chair trying to get my attention, but I continued to ignore him. This went on for about a minute, before he lightly brushed my arm, forcing me to look in his direction. There was no doubt that this guy was one of the most gorgeous guys I've ever scene. His body was enough to make any female want to rip off his clothes. There was something about his eyes and his face that gave off a hint of mischievousness. I guess, it turned me on that every girl in London and New Castle, England for that matter, wanted him. And here he was, gazing over at me with interest. But as all stories with a guy like this go, you're bound to just be another girl to mark off on his bed post. And that's what I became.

"Rory, are you alright love? John asked, as he stepped in front of my distant gaze, disrupting my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were alright." I slowly nodded, comprehending the meaning of the statement.

"I just need some time alone right now." I began to gradually walk down the path past dozens of tents, as the commotion over the new person in question died down.

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_Hey guys: So what did you think of Mcgaven Harris? I tried to make him as attractive as possible. You'll find out more about him in the next chapter along with a jealous Tristan, so stay on the lookout for updates:) REVIEW PLEASE-TTYL_


	11. Lemon Juice

That evening, I unenthusiastically went to the main kitchen tent towards the end of camp, where they served food to the volunteers and relief workers. I found myself kicking rocks, while walking at a snail's pace. _This is just great!_ I thought to myself angrily. _Do you think he'll remember me? What will I say to him, if he does?_ I was referring to Mcgaven Harris, the notorious soccer-player who showed up at the entrance of the camp that day.

I almost wished they had never let him inside in the first place. It was too late now though. I could spot him under the tent, as he chatted with a group of girls at a nearby table. Trying to hide myself from his view, I crept into line, picking up a tray. They were serving some form of mystery meat, collard greens, russet potatoes, and a jelly concoction.

Immediately, I fell sick to my stomach due to the overwhelming thoughts in my head. Uneasiness and nervousness crept up on me like an anxiety attack. I had the lowest self-esteem in these situations because I felt like I couldn't compete with the other girls around me. It only became more complicated, when I spotted Domini sitting next to Tristan. She was making him laugh uncontrollably, something I could never really achieve. And on top of that, he was devouring the whole flirtatious act up. He started leaning in towards her, making Domini giggle every now and then. I couldn't control it anymore. My confidence dropped beyond recognition. Domini had a perfect complexion and a body to die for. How could I ever compete? I closed my eyes, as I let out a long sigh. _She has nothing over you. _I thought self-assuredly to myself. Then, I strutted with poise over to the closest table and sat down, pretending not to take notice to the fact that Domini was moving in on _my_ territory. Unfortunately, my eyes shot up at the slightest giggle, as I glared over at their table. Tristan was now trying to seize a piece of paper Domini was keeping from him.

"Let me see it!" I heard him shout playfully.

"You have to get it first!" she responded with enjoyment. Then, without warning, Domini leaned over as far as she could, trying to tempt Tristan into reaching over her to grasp the object of his current desire. And her plan succeeded brilliantly. He tilted over her, their bodies flesh, as he finally grasped the paper. _No she just didn't!_ I thought to myself in alarm and in fury. I knew I needed to counterattack. So I got up from my seat and seductively strutted past their table. Then out of nowhere, I walked along behind Mcgaven's chair and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Immediately, the footballer's ears perked up, as I glided my fingers down his back like I had seen the girls at the club once do. I continued leaning towards the side of his face, now moving my fingers along his neck. Mcgaven was thoroughly enjoying this, as he grabbed my hand and scooted back his chair. Motioning for me to come and sit down on his lap, I proceeded. All the girls at the table gave me evil glares and little snickers. They were all jealous and I knew it.

"Have we met somewhere before?" he inquired with a furrowed brow, as my heart stopped. Here was the very question I had been dreading the entire day.

"No…I don't think we have" I stammered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His hands moved up to the sides of my waist, as he tilted me forward to mutter something for my ears only. Behind him, I could see Tristan's eyes slowly look up and stop in dismay. His face went white, as if he'd seen some terrible tragedy unfold. I took this as my opportunity to get him and little Miss. Domini back. When I had everyone's attention, I ran my fingers through the back of his hair, as I began to giggle like a school girl, not really paying attention to anything that was coming out of Mcgaven's mouth. My eyes would widen at certain things that he'd bring up. Mcgaven could be talking about tactics to score a goal and I would spit out random things like:

"I know, right!" and "that is so Hot!" It was making me sick to my stomach, just listening to myself. Finally, I got thirsty, so I pulled my body off of Mcgaven and made my way over to the small drink bar. Right when I poured a glass of iced tea, I felt two hands wrap tightly around my waist. Thinking it was Mcgaven, I pulled back giggling in delight.

"We need to talk…" he whispered in my ear, as I realized that it wasn't Mcgaven after all. It was in fact Tristan. I froze for a second, not sure whether or not I should follow him, as he made his way out into the night.

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We had been walking for a couple minutes in silence. I just stared at the ground, while Tristan looked up at the sky.

"Having fun in there?" I finally spat out in a saucy tone. Tristan scrunched his face, as he let out an uncertain chuckle.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you and Domini seemed to be having a pretty good time in there----"

"Rory" I was cut off by the sound of my name. He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Don't get what?" I crossed my arms about my chest, purposely avoiding any eye contact.

"You don't know guys like that…they take advantage of girls like you---"

"What do you mean by 'girls like me'?" I shouted accusatorily. Tristan let out another long sigh, before taking a step towards me.

"Remember how I told you, I lived in New Castle?" I nodded my head, trying to be as direct as possible without showing any signs of weakness.

"Well, I use to play with Mcgaven Harris on New Castle United."

"What!" I spat, as I took a step back, suddenly feeling like the world was getting smaller by the second.

"How…when?" I stuttered breathlessly.

"I was eighteen, when I moved to London to become a pro-footballer. I was lucky enough to get a trial and a temporary spot on the reserve team for the club…" his voice trailed off, as he stared into the distance. I could see his eyes narrow, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Our team played against Liverpool and Manchester United over a dozen times and we won every match. Then, the coach moved me as mid-fielder on to the official team." I watched Tristan's facial expressions and listened to the sound of his voice, as I felt myself sway dizzily.

"Rory…he's not a good guy. I know, I use to be him—"

"He's not as bad as you think…" I muttered. Tristan gazed at me helplessly, as he continued.

"Once I started getting recognized, I would go out to clubs with Mcgaven all the time. Women would throw themselves at us everywhere we went. There was never such a thing as drinking responsibly." Tristan chuckled at that remark. Then, his face became hard and serious.

"We would drink until we had an excuse to skip practice the next morning. I was sleeping in during the day, vomiting all over the place and waking up next to women I barely knew. Rory…" his voice trailed off, as he brushed his hand against my cheek. I shuddered, as I pulled away.

"He doesn't give a dam about you or anyone else for that matter! I left that life a long time ago…I was wasting myself away."

"It seems like you had everything you could have ever wanted. Why would you ever want to leave that?" I asked demandingly. He shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Two things: number one, I didn't like who I was and number two...I met you." My gaze from the ground shifted up, as I stared into Tristan's cloudy blue eyes.

"How many times have you used that line?" I spat, as I turned to leave.

"No…Rory! It's not a line." I pushed away from him, as he tried to grab my arm.

"And to think, I actually liked you---"

"What are you so afraid of?" Tristan yelled at me, as he swung me around forcefully.

"Nothing…" I stammered.

"Try again."

"Tristan…" I whined, as I placed my hand on top of the one holding my arm.

"Answer my question" he asserted firmly.

"YOU!" I shouted at him, as I ripped my arm away.

"Why do you have to be so condescending and hard to read all the time? One minute you're flirting with Domini and then the next, you tell me that you care about me!"

"But it's the truth…" he pleaded, as he flung his arms out.

"What do you want from me?" he yelled in surrender. I glared teary-eyed at him, as I crossed my arms tighter around myself. Then, out of nowhere, my lips found their way to his. I couldn't help it. I wanted him to kiss me and hold me so badly. I pressed firmly against his lips, as I detached myself, gasping for air. Tristan stood there immobile. I could feel his breathing become shallow, but he remained still. It was almost too much for me to bare. It was one thing, if he never talked to me again, but to turn me away so coldly when I was pouring my heart out to him, was another.

Without a hint, Tristan pushed me backwards against a pole and passionately kissed his heart and his soul into me. I wasn't ready for all that he was giving me. His hands forcefully grabbed onto my clothes, as if he was trying to rip them off. I gasped as air filled my lungs. Tristan was ferociously kissing my neck, biting slightly on the sensitive areas. Then, he pulled away unexpectedly and took his hand in mine.

"Come with me…" he whispered. I obeyed in a trance, as we walked slowly side by side to the main dining tent. Once there, Tristan led me to the drink stand and pulled out three lemons from the ice bucket.

"What are you doing?" I inquired in a hoarse voice. He only brushed his fingers across my lips to silence me, as he took my hand in his once more and led me into the night. We treaded over to my tent and pulled back the flap extending his hand across his chest.

"Ladies first…" he said mockingly. I playfully hit him across the chest, as I stood up inside.

"Now what?" I asked nervously.

"Lie down and close your eyes" he commanded abruptly. I did as he said and sprawled myself out on the sleeping bag. The closing of the eyes part was the hardest though. I didn't know what to expect or what to do with myself for that matter. Immediately, my senses of smell, touch, and hearing kicked in. I could feel Tristan's callused fingers gently brush against the skin on my stomach, as he lifted my shirt up slowly. I shot out my hand and stopped him, opening up my eyes in confusion.

"Just trust me…" he whispered, as put his hands over my face to close my eyes. In a few seconds, I felt the sensation of his touch again. He brought my shirt up to just below my breasts and stopped. Then, I could smell the faint mist of lemon, as a wet, cold liquid poured onto my stomach. I squirmed, as a smile wiped onto my face.

"Tristan…" I warned, trying to control my inner neediness. I could feel his hot breath blow across my skin, as a wet tongue sucked the lemon juice gently off of my skin. I started to laugh out loud, not use to the strange feelings it was creating. Unable to suppress my temptation, I ran my fingers through his hair and brought his head up to my eye level. I wanted him to kiss me so desperately, that every part of my body ached. I could see his eyes look around sporadically, not sure what to rest his focus on. The tags that he wore around his neck tickled my chin with the sensation of cold metal on a warming body. His weight was crushing me even though he tried to prop himself on the arms that were on either sides of my head.

"What are you thinking?" he inquired breathlessly, not looking into my eyes, but lower. I lifted his head up, trying to gain eye contact.

"I'm over here…" I giggled, as he laughed, his breath still shallow.

"I should go." He stated reluctantly. I understood what he meant. It was too soon for us to do anything, even though I wanted to know everything about him in that moment.

"When will it ever be time?" I questioned, making him lick his lips.

"When I know you…" he muttered, rubbing his nose against mine, "and you know me." With that, he kissed me gently on the lips, as he lingered there for a moment. But as all good times must come to an end, he heaved himself up and peered down at me.

"You might want to take a shower after this." I could see the glint in his eyes and the sarcasm in his voice. He was referencing to the episode that morning, when I had been caught staring at his nakedness. I only nodded my head and blushed.

"Goodnight" was all he said before pulling back the flap and exiting.


	12. It's my choice

The days proceeded as normal, after the unusual encounters I had during the first week. I had opened my eyes to a dying civilization, met two of the most awesome people in the world (that being Dan and John), came extremely close to getting killed and raped by military informants, discovered that the world is small after all with the arrival of Mcgaven Harris, and learned to open my heart again with Tristan. Staring down at my blank sheets of paper and my pen, I came to a realization. This sort of journalism wasn't what I was supposed to do with my life. Yes, I was meant to report stories and yes, I was meant to travel; but these stories, get real. I was writing about a flood that destroyed homes for Christ's sake! It had nothing to do with the steadily increasing infant mortality rate or the death toll due to disease; it had nothing to do with the lack of technology and the chaotic government that ran this country into the ground. I was writing about something that would end up getting published in the next issue, to just be sent all around the world, read and then, discarded. To be brutally honest, nobody in the Americas or in Europe cared about Zimbabwe because it wasn't their problem. It was just another country among countries that had difficulties beyond repair.

Looking back over my life, I started to realize how scared and meek I was when it came to these types of issues. I would simply shove the problem in the back of my mind and focus on what was supposedly more important, like guys and movies. But that wasn't what was imperative. I had all my priorities mixed up and for once, I envied Tristan for how passionate and determined he was to fight for a cause. No matter how small the impact might have seemed, he still saved another kid's life everyday. It was his money, his time, his sweat and tears, that made the relief camp what it was; and that only made me love his nature more. I thought back to the way he touched me in such a gentle and genuine way; the way he always brought the fire and the spirit out of me whenever I questioned myself. He was my rock, my pillar, my shelter and my refuge throughout all the turmoil and all the tragedies that impacted my life that entire week. I took it as a sign from God, that I was meant to be sitting in that very tent, staring at a blank sheet of paper; to take the initiative and question what I was contributing to the now or to the tomorrow.

A rustling sound was heard outside my tent, as Dan crept in with a small smile on his face.

"How are ya?" he asked merrily. I gave him a quick smile and bowed my head.

"Is there something ya want to talk about?" I stared down at my hands, examining the lines and the ridges that formed its shape.

"Why am I here, Dan?" I said in a small voice. I could hear his foot steps advance, as he squatted down and lifted my chin with his fingertips. His smile had gotten larger, since the last time I looked at him.

"Because you're a dam good writer Rory…" he stated firmly.

"I've read some your work and I have to say, it even makes me a little teary-eyed." I shook head and looked at him perplexed.

"Why?" I questioned. He leaned in closer and whispered in a low voice.

"Because you write from the heart." I stared into his jolly brown eyes and closed my eyes. I finally understood what he meant.

"You're right" I said standing up. He gazed at me with an assured expression on his face, as he stood up as well.

"…which is why, I'm going to fly back to London."

" What?!" Dan belted. "What for?"

"I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not Dan! I want to prove to myself, that I can make a difference not only in myself, but in all of this." I motioned to the people and the tents outside. With that, I paced over to my bags and began gathering my stuff.

"But you can't leave…" Dan stated in protest. "You have your career to think of and your life back home---"

"Screw it" I bluntly asserted. Dan just stood there with a mystified expression on his face, as I swung my duffle bag over my shoulder.

"But how are you going to get out of here? Think about the plane ticket and your safety!" Dan continued to follow me around like a lost puppy, as I flipped up the flap to the tent and began sauntering through the rows of living spaces.

"Rory…stop" he firmly commanded, as he placed his bony hand on my shoulder.

"What are you going to do, once you get to London?" I stared at him with a determined expression, as I blew the strands that fell over my eyes.

"I'm going to bring back supplies and media coverage" I said boldly. I began to walk again, as Dan stood in place with mouth agape.

"Tell John, I said goodbye" I yelled behind me.

"And what about Tristan?" I stopped in my tracks, as I gripped tighter to the strap hanging off my shoulder.

"What about him?" I asked in a light tone, acting as if the subject didn't bother me in the least.

"Oh come on…stop fooling your self Rory! You know you're falling for him---"

"I think that's for me to decide!" I cut in harshly, as I whipped around to glare at him. As I turned around again once more to continue on my journey out of camp, I bumped into Tristan's chest. Frightened, I looked up to see a small grin on his face.

"Hey, where you going?" The words caught up in my throat, as I gulped loudly. Dan was the one to answer for me:

"She's going back to London." I watched as Tristan's eyes filled with a look of hurt and disorientation.

"I don't believe it" he whispered, as I cast my eyes to the ground.

"Is this true?" he asked with a higher pitch voice. I could hear him choke a little.

"Tristan…"

"Just answer this one question," he stated abruptly. I licked my lips, as my eyes fluttered. Looking up into his eyes was breaking my heart. The moment we shared last night would forever change the way I felt about him.

"Did I do something wrong or say something—" he started in a hoarse voice.

"No…Tristan! It isn't you" I blurted out. He just looked away, as I watched the lines on his forehead crease.

"So, you're just going to leave. That's it…" he murmured in an unemotional tone. Again, I looked away from him and found another object to fixate on during the trying moment.

"I'll be back…" I stated lightly, as I leaned over, trying to kiss him on the cheek. Tristan pulled away, not wanting anything to do with me.

"I got work to do" he asserted flatly, as he paced right past me without a word. I stood there for a few minutes, before Dan spoke up.

"Sometimes, what you think you're meant for in life, is staring you right in the face. And the funny thing is love, that you don't even notice it." In a flash, Dan was gone somewhere in the distance, and I was left standing in the sun with my duffle bag in tow. _Hope you're right about this Gilmore_. I thought to myself, before beginning to walk towards the entrance of the camp once again.

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_Hey guys: This is a shorter and more philosophical chapter, but it only gets better here on out. Not the next chapter, but the one after that might be rated "M" for mature once Rory finally decides to return to the relief camp. Look out for further chapters where Tristan might get kidnapped, etc. REVIEW please if you liked this scene:) TTYL_


	13. Back to London

I was sitting in my seat looking out the small window, as the pilot came over the intercom.

"We will be landing in London in approximately five minutes. I would like to request for everyone to remain in their seats until we have successfully landed. Thank you and have a nice rest of the evening."

I let out a sigh of relief, as I brushed my chapped lips. The phone call to Jesse and Janet had already been made. They knew I was coming home early, but they didn't know for what reasons. That information I managed to keep to myself.

It had been a long flight and a trying experience. Tristan hated me; John and Dan probably thought I was pathetic and irresponsible. I had gone on that expedition not prepared at all. My thoughts, my actions, my words; they weren't enough. No, I came home to fix all that; to change myself and find my purpose. I just hoped that Tristan would accept my abrupt departure and not avoid me for forever.

The wheels touched the runway, as I lunged forward knocking my head against the seat in front of me.

"Owww" I muttered loudly, placing my hand over the soar area. The person sitting in front of me sat up in his seat and turned around.

"The worst part of the whole plane ride, if I may say so myself." He was a green-eyed, brown haired Scotsman. His nose was chiseled and his chin was well-defined. He had an appearance that was easy on the eyes, but striking enough to hold your attention.

I smiled, as I pressed my lips together, not sure how to respond. The suit that he wore looked extremely expensive with pin-stripes and a blue silk hanky poking out of the top pocket. The narrow, black glasses extenuated his well-to-do look. His handsome futures shined through impeccably.

"I'm Ross. And you are?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Rory…Gilmore" I shakily declared. My hand shot out to reach his, as we both greeted each other.

"So, on your way back from Zimbabwe are we?" I nodded, trying to keep a calm composure. I didn't want to have to deal with this kind of pressure right then, after such a long flight.

"It's funny. You don't seem to be the type to just take a trip to a place like that" he asserted suavely, as he did a once over.

"Well, it was for work…I guess, I could say so for you as well." He smirked, as he fixed the glasses that lay on top of his nose.

"This is just my connecting flight. I was doing some work in South Africa." The plane came to a stop, as people began to rise around us. I stood up and straightened the pants that clung to my legs.

"I've always wanted to go there" I started this time. He didn't respond for a second, collecting his leather bag and his laptop.

"Yah, it's not terrible…" his voice trailed off in a monotone. I figured that the conversation had ended, so I opened the top compartment and pulled down my duffle bag. People behind me pushed gently against me, as a sign of their urgency. I continued in single file out of the plane and through the connecting tunnel. Suddenly, I heard my name being called.

"Rory…Rory, right?" The Scotsman ran up beside me carrying his satchel over one shoulder and his coat slung over the other arm.

"That's my name." I continued to walk casually, as he fumbled through his bag.

"I'm guessing…you're some kind of journalist or reporter, right?" I stopped in my tracks, as he kept walking, not paying attention. Then, when he finally did look up from searching in his bag, he realized I was not beside him.

"What?" he mumbled in apprehension, before turning around to find me standing a little ways back.

"Yes, I'm a journalist. How did you know?" He continued to stand there.

"Well, I saw your notepad out and your folders, when we first talked…I just assumed." His voice got small, almost as if he was afraid that if one more word was uttered, the conversation would be entirely ruined.

"Look, I wanted to give you this." He paced towards me and handed me a business card. I looked down at the off-white rectangle to find the name "_Ross Gallagher_" printed in curvy letters. That name made a little siren go off in my head.

"Do I know you?" I asked politely, as I leaned in closer with inquisitiveness. The man just shook his head slowly, racking his brain.

"No, I don't believe so."

"Huh…" I muttered in uncertainty, as I looked down at the card again. Then, it hit me.

"You're the Vice-CEO for the _National Geographic_, aren't you?" He nodded, as a smirk wiped onto his face.

"What clued you in?" I stood there speechless, as my lips formed into a huge smile.

"I really have to talk to you!" I squealed with excitement. He only stared at me in puzzlement through the lens of his glasses, as I took him by the sleeve and dragged him to the nearest place to sit.

--------------------------------------------

"So, let me get this straight." Ross took a sip of his coffee and set the plastic cup down on the small circular table.

"You work as a journalist for the _National Geographic_ here in London, and you want my help to give you funding for supplies…and media coverage?" His voice sounded disbelieving and unsure.

"Look, I know this whole thing sounds crazy, but those people need this" I quibbled. Ross just closed his eyes briefly, as he stroked his chin, contemplating my argument.

"I hardly know who you are and your intentions—"

"—but you were quick enough to hit on me, right?" I divulged in a sly tone. Ross shifted in his chair uneasily, as he let out a little laugh.

"You're a quick one, I'll give you that." He ran his fingers through his buzz-cut hair and glanced down at his Rolex watch.

"Look, I have a meeting that starts in twenty minutes and I can't miss it, so—"

"Can I call you later on?" I persisted, not letting my question fade away. He let out an agitated sigh and nodded in the form of a yes. He got up gathering his coat off the back of the chair and the leather satchel propped up on the ground.

"Just call the number on the card and tell my secretary that it's urgent. She'll put you right through then."

"Okay" I remarked with little debate. He gave a small wave and walked through the sea of people coming and going past the gates. I was quite proud of myself. For the first time in a long time, I had actually pushed someone so far for answers and almost risked losing my job. I got up merrily and bent over to pick up my duffle bag. _The New Rory Gilmore has arrived_. I thought to myself confidently. Now, all I had to do was go and find Janet and Jesse.

-------------------------------------------

They were standing side by side next to the car, as they were getting hassled by some patrol guy in an orange vest.

"You can't park here!" the man barked, as he flung out his hands.

"Look, she'll be here in a second! So, stop having a cow!" Jesse barked back. Janet spotted me, as her eyes grew wide.

"See, there she is!" she shrieked happily, as she ran towards me. I dropped my duffle bag to receive her enormous hug.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" Janet announced, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I only let out a small sob, as tears began to well up in my eyes.

"You have no idea, how much I needed that just now" I replied, as I pulled away from her. Janet's once-short black hair had grown longer and her entire face glowed with happiness.

"Come…Jesse will want to hug you to." I picked up my duffle bag once more and paced over to where Jesse stood with an angry look on his face. That all changed, when his dark brown eyes meet mine.

"Rory! Come here…" he roared, taking me into another big hug. I missed Jesse and Janet so much, that I couldn't let go of either one of them at the moment.

"So, why are you home so early?" Janet began, as she took my bag from my hand and walked back to the trunk.

"I just needed to come home and reevaluate some stuff for awhile." Jesse pulled back, as he looked into my face.

"You've changed" he proclaimed in a low voice. I nodded in agreement, as I took his hand in mine.

"I met someone Jesse. He's really nice and I think I like him a lot." Jesse just stared intently into my eyes expressionless.

"I'm happy for you" he injected after a while, as he squeezed my hand tighter.

"I really am…" I smiled proudly, relieved that he welcomed the new change with open arms.

---------------------------------------

We drove for a while, as I slept in the backseat exhausted from the strenuous flight. I dreamed about shadows wearing painted masks. They were jumping around and yelling something, but I couldn't understand it. The feeling frustrated me so much, that I began to scream.

"Rory, Rory, wake up…" a voice thundered, as I was pulled out of my dream-like state. My entire face was drenched in sweat, as I peered up sleep-eyed to find Jesse's face.

"You were having a bad dream. Come on, let's get you inside." I nodded, as I slid myself off the back seat and out of the car. Looking up was like looking at something you haven't seen in decades. I missed my building with its stone exterior and huge windows.

"Home sweet home" Janet mumbled, as she opened the front door for us. We made our way up the flights of steps and onto our floor finally.

"Now, I want you to go straight to bed when you get inside, okay?" I nodded in affirmation, not wanting to argue. The inside of the apartment was clean surprisingly. I made the assumption that Janet probably made Jesse clean a little in preparation for my arrival. That just seemed so much like what she would do. I stumbled down the hall and pushed open the door to my bedroom, dragging my feet across the floor. I barely made it, as I threw myself on top of my bed and breathed in deeply. The smell of my sheets made me smile.

_I missed all of this so much._ I thought to myself, as I drifted off to sleep.

------------------------------------------

When I did finally wake up, it was ten o'clock in the morning on the following day. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, not wanting to get up; but the bright sun shinning through my window opposite of me, made me do otherwise.

I felt something sharp poke me in the side and realized what it was. It was the business card that Ross Gallagher had given me. Eager to get the response that I wanted from him, I pushed myself towards the side of the bed and reached out for the phone. Then, I spun the numbers waiting for the ringing sound on the receiving line.

"Ross Gallagher's secretary Mary Thorpe, how might I help you?" I cleared my throat and rubbed my eyes.

"Yah, this is Rory Gilmore and I need to speak to Mr. Gallagher immediately. It's urgent." The lady did not respond at first, as I heard faint sounds of things being shifted in the background.

"Please hold one moment" the secretary finally relayed in an impassive voice. I looked down at my fingernails, examining the chips in my peach fingernail polish.

"Hello, Rory?" the voice on the other line asserted.

"Hi. This is Mr. Gallagher, correct?" I asked rhetorically. Ross chuckled on the receiving end before clearing his throat and saying:

"Yes, but you can always call me Ross." I blushed slightly, noticing my formalness.

"Look, the phone thing…I'm not sure if I'll be able to tell you all that needs to be said—"

"Well, then have dinner with me…tonight" he cut in quickly. It took me a second to process the impact of the statement. Noticing my hesitance, he added:

"It's just a casual business invitation, that's all." I exhaled loudly, as I gripped the phone tighter against my ear.

"Seven o'clock at 327 Burlington Ave?" I reinstated, after a few seconds.

"Seven o'clock then. My limo will come to pick you up…and Rory?"

"Yah?" I replied suddenly.

"Wear something dressy. It's not going to be some Ma and Pa place." I made a small noise to signal my comprehension, as I hung up the phone. _Now what to wear?_ I thought to myself, as I scrabbled off the bed and walked over to my closest. It felt like it had been forever since the last time I went in there. Flinging open the door, I ran my fingers across the long row of clothes and stopped every once in a while when I hit a dress. There was the low-cut black one, but that made me feel like I'd be giving the wrong impression. There was the teal lacy dress that came to my thigh.

"Too short…" I mumbled to myself. I pulled out my red one and held it under my chin, while looking in the mirror diagonal of me.

"Too seductive" I finally stated. Pushing back some clothes one last time, I found a faded pink vintage dress. It had small black beads that lined the plunging neck line and a beaded belt that wrapped around the waist. I tried it on quickly, stripping off my other clothes. The dress looked adorable on, as it came right to my knees.

"Perfect" I whispered, as I scuffled to my jewelry box in search of black dangly earrings. _I hope this is worth it._ I picked up the matching pieces of jewelry and setting them aside. Looking back in the mirror was a different Rory; a more confident Rory. And that's exactly who I wanted to be.


	14. The Deal

I was standing in front of the mirror, applying the last touch of lip gloss. Everything was finished. I had curled my hair and pulled it back, so that half of my hair was up and the other half was down. My pink dress clung to the curves of my body and my black strappy stilettos tied everything together. Glancing at the clock through the reflection in the mirror, it read 6:58pm.

"Oh, crap!" I mumbled in alarm, as I grabbed my black-netted shawl with beads sewn onto it and threw it over my shoulders. Careful not to trip, I rushed down the hall to find Jesse lying on the couch and Janet in the kitchen.

"Where ya going?" Jesse asked in a sleepy voice, as he lifted his head up from the pillow.

"Oh, just out with a friend—"

"Do you realize it's below twenty degrees out there and you have on that little dress?!" Janet cut in. I just exhaled loudly, annoyed by her concern.

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." I ran over to Janet and gave her a peck on the cheek before waving goodbye to Jesse.

"I should be back before eleven. Don't wait up!" I shouted, as I flung open the door and darted into the hall.

A couple minutes later, I was walking through the lobby towards the glass doors. I could visibly see a black stretch limo waiting outside. My nerves began to jump all over the place, as I pushed one of the doors open and descended the steps to see a man wearing a suit and a black hat, opening the door for me.

"You're Ms. Gilmore, correct?" I nodded, as he motioned for me with his hand to step inside.

"Did Mr. Gallagher tell you where we'd be dining?" I questioned in a clear voice.

"He told me to keep that information secret, until you get there. It's supposed to remain a surprise." I smiled, as I shifted my body into the vehicle and slid across the leather seat. The limo was humongous. There was a drink cart on one side and a music center on the other. MP3 players to flat-panel televisions, lined the inside.

"Wow…" was all I could mutter, as I felt the limo begin to move.

We only drove for about twenty minutes, before we came to a halt. The driver came around to the back and opened my door, extending a hand. I gladly took it, as I heaved my body off the seat. Looking around, I gasped.

"He has nice taste, no?" the driver remarked in a voice of amusement.

"Yah, excellent taste…" I said breathlessly. I began to ascend the marble steps leading into _Una Bella canzone_, one of the most expensive restaurants in London. Somewhere in a magazine, I recalled reading about how that restaurant had earned five stars from simply walking through the front door. The place overlooked the water and had giant trees that lined the pathway to the entrance.

"Bongourno, how may I help'a you'a?" the man at the podium inquired in a thick Italian ascent. He was an older gentleman with hair slicked back to the side and a beauty mark at the corner of his mouth.

"Ah yes, I'm expecting Mr. Gallagher for dinner."

"Ah, Mr. Gallagher" the man winked and then, grinned.

"Right this way." I followed behind him, as he grabbed a menu. People occasionally peered up at me as I walked past the rows of tables. I felt better once we exited out through the French doors and on to the veranda. There were only about ten tables out in this section in which overlooked the water. Roses were carefully arranged in the vases and candles were scattered about sporadically.

Then, I saw him. Ross was wearing a black suit with a yellow buttoned-down shirt and a light blue silk tie. I couldn't help, but smile as he stood up flabbergasted. I think I took his breath away.

"Your table, Signora" the man declared, as he placed the menu on top of the maroon tablecloth.

"Enjoy." And with that, the host left without another word. I stood there awkwardly as I watched Ross' eyes move down my body.

"Care to sit?" he finally injected. I nodded thankfully and took a seat. Looking out onto the water was absolutely gorgeous. The only thing that gave off light were the hundreds of lighted candles that were on the tables and the railing.

"It's so beautiful here" I commented, as I looked over at Ross to find him staring at me.

"I'm glad you like it." His voice was low, but steady. He took a sip from his wine glass and stopped the first waiter that walked by.

"Yes, could you get this lovely young woman right here, a glass of Chianti please?" The waiter nodded, as he walked off quickly.

"I really shouldn't drink" I suggested to him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"And why not?" he chuckled.

"Because this is supposed to be a business meeting, remember?"

"Oh lighten up a little and get over yourself…" he stated calmly, as he watched me shift uneasily in my chair. Then, he leaned back and gazed out at the water. I watched as he rested his wine glass on top of his chest and let out a sigh.

"You proposed to me yesterday afternoon an argument that could win any guy over…" Ross began in a firm tone.

"But the reality of it is that there are people all around the world who need help. Not just these people you described at the relief camp." I shook my head and let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're a businessman. There must be something I can tempt you with." I watched as Ross' eyes began to flash with mischievousness.

"That's right, I am a businessman. But, I wouldn't be making those types of requests if I were you. It might take you to places you wouldn't want to go." I bit my lip as I listened to those words smoothly roll off of his tongue.

"So, you're just going to forget about what I said?" I asked uneasily. Ross looked over at me and set his wine glass on top of the table.

"Unless…" he began, but stopped when the waiter approached the table with a bottle of wine. Then, taking my glass, the waiter poured a quarter of a cup and set the wine bottle down.

"Signora" he mumbled before pacing away. Then, Ross leaned in closer, as to get my attention.

"Unless you can make me an offer I can't refuse." His voice was incredibly low and I could hint some underlying meaning to it.

"What would I have to do?" I whispered slowly. Ross bit his lip and looked up at me.

"Sleep with me." The words penetrated through my skin and made me shudder. I felt like getting up and marching out of the restaurant immediately, but I didn't. I was keen on carrying this out and getting what I wanted.

"You expect me to actually do that?" I lashed. A smirk formed on his lips, as I watched him intently look into my eyes. His narrowed incredibly, as he pressed his lips tightly together.

"If you carry through, I'll ensure that you get whatever media coverage you want."

"And supplies?" I added quickly. He closed his eyes and nodded. Then, he took his wine glass in his hand and took a sip. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, before I ran my hand over the top of my head.

"Alright, I'll do it" I stated bluntly. His eyes lit up, as he gazed intently at me. In truth, I didn't want him like that. Of course he was handsome and rich, but I didn't want to spend a night pleasuring him.

"Are you serious? Think about this carefully because I don't want some lawsuit hanging over my head, saying that I forced some woman to have sex with me" he retorted.

"No, no…I'll do it." He smiled at how easy I was to conquer.

"Let's go then" he said smoothly, as he scooted back his chair and gently grabbed my arm. We walked out together this way. The host at the front desk just put the drinks on Ross' tab for next time.

He put his arm tightly around me, as I winced at his touch. _What are doing?_ I yelled at myself inside my head. I knew it was the wrong way to go about things, but I felt like there was no other alternative. So, I kissed him softly on the cheek. _He's handsome and built._ I tried to convince myself; but, it wasn't working too well.

I felt his hand on the small of my back, as I stepped into the limousine. Then, it moved up to around my waist once the door shut. _Oh, not in the backseat! _I thought to myself uncertainly. Ross gently kissed down my neck making my breathing run shallow. I hated the way I knew where things were going; the way every kiss and every touch would ultimately lead to a one-night stand.

"Slow down a little…" I muttered breathlessly, as I pulled him back. He looked at me dazed, as he nodded in affirmation.

"At the apartment then." We were silent for the rest of ride, until the limousine stopped and I could feel my heart begin to beat faster.

Ross took my hand sympathetically, as he led me out of the vehicle.

"You look like you're going to your doom or something. Cheer up, aye?" he implored with compassion, as he leaned over and kissed the side of my head. My breathing began to get shaky the nearer we got to his floor. His cologne and his touch made me nervous and confused.

We finally got to his door, as he took out his keys. It was too much to bear.

"No…" I pleaded, not thinking before the word escaped out of mouth. He stopped, as he turned to look at me.

"You know, we don't have to do this." I ran my fingers through my hair, as I smiled shyly.

"No, I want to…I'm just nervous." He smirked and twisted the keys in the lock. I heard a click and the door was opened. His apartment was enormous with plenty of open space. He had elegant furniture scattered about and a grand piano sitting in the corner.

"Do you play?" I inquired, motioning towards the instrument. He peered up and shook his head slowly.

"No…I use to though. That's when I didn't have meetings every minute of everyday." I smiled at the remark and continued to roam around, looking at the books on his shelves and the antique figurines on his desk.

He came up behind me and wrapped his hands around me.

"Care for a drink?" he whispered in my ear. I only shook my head, as I turned around to gaze into his eyes. I knew what I had to do. I just wasn't sure whether or not I could go all the way. I kissed him gently on the lips, as I could feel his hands move down my body. Ross then began to lazily kiss the side of my neck, making me sigh deeply.

"Let's move into my bedroom…" he mumbled quietly, as I could feel him tug at my dress.

"Not yet" I groaned pulling away, making him a little irritated by the loss of contact.

"So, what sort of books do you read?" I began again. I was stalling. It was plain and simple.

"Rory…" Ross whined.

"I picture you as more of a mystery and adventure sort of guy. Have you ever read John Grisham's books?"

"Rory…" he rebuked again. I ignored his attempts to get my attention, as I walked towards the table and picked up a ceramic whale.

"Where'd you get this little guy from—"

"Rory!" he implored loudly. My eyes shot up, as I could see frustration on his face.

"What are you doing?" he finally remarked.

"I'm just asking perfectly normal questions—"

"No, you're stalling!" he cut in, as he walked over to me and pulled me close to him.

"Now, we can do this or you can leave without ever speaking to me again" he stated hotly. His grip tightened around my waist, as I could feel the muscular chest underneath his shirt.

"I said I would do it." With that, he took my hand and led me to his bedroom at the corner of the room. Flipping on the light, I could see a mahogany bed with a gray comforter in the center of the space and a matching dresser on the side. Abstract paintings lined the blue walls.

He began to attack my neck once more, pulling the straps of my dress off my shoulders. My breath caught in my throat, as I tried to focus on the sensation he was filling me with. Ross gently nipped at the sensitive areas causing me to moan softly. He then lifted me up into his arms, as I wrapped my legs around him.

"Ross…" I mumbled, as he laid me on to the bed and shifted him self on top me. It was all too quick and I could sense his hunger and urgency. I tried to slow him down by running my fingers through his buzz-cut hair or scooting farther on to the bed; but, that only enticed him more.

Ross was now stripping my dress from my body, revealing only my lacy black bra and underwear. I peeled off his jacket and began to loosen his tie, as he passionately kissed me. He was an amazing kisser, I would give him that. And his hands knew where my weak spots existed. I unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt, as he put his hands between my legs and squeezed my thigh. That did the trick. I moaned into his mouth and lifted my hips up, grinding against him.

"I knew you'd like that…" he uttered incoherently. I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, as he trailed kisses down my chest. He reached my breasts before reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. _This is it!_ I thought to myself in panic. I knew that after my bra was taken off there was no turning back. So, I reached down low and squeezed. He gave out a loud grunt, as I could feel his arms weaken; not as able to keep his weight up.

His erection was hard and I could feel that. I undid his pants, as he hurriedly kicked them off. I then grinded my hips against him one more time. I could feel his breathing quicken and his movements become more demanding.

"I want you…" he mumbled into my ear. I took revenge on that statement and gently ran my fingers along his manhood, making him gasp for air. He was being pushed over the edge and I knew I had the control.

"Do you promise to give me whatever I want?" I whispered seductively in his ear, as I sucked on his earlobe slowly. I could hear him grumble in affirmation, as he began to remove my bra once more. _Oh no you don't!_ I bellowed in my head. I grabbed onto his erection and pulled firmly making him weak to the knees. His arms collapsed above me, as I could feel him fall on top of me.

"I think that's enough play" I uttered calmly, as I rolled myself out from under him.

"Wait…" he called in a hoarse voice, as I clasped my bra again.

"You can't leave…we had a deal!" He gulped loudly. I swept the strands of hair away from face and puffed.

"You bastard!" I began, as I tried to fight back tears.

"You made me come in here and sleep with—"

"—Hey, hey!" he cut in alarmed.

"We had a deal?" he yelled, as he lifted himself up and leaned against his propped up arm.

"Deal off!" I stammered, as I pulled my dress over head and walked out of the room. I could hear his footsteps across the floor.

"You can't just get me aroused like that and leave…it doesn't work!" he yelled grabbing my arm. I spun around and landed against his now bear chest.

"You don't understand…" I cried, teary-eyed, as he glared at me.

"I did my fair share. Take it or leave it." The tables had been shifted. I was now sitting on top of the throne. I had done my part to pleasure him and now he owed me what he promised.

"Fine" he spat, as he rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses.

"Call me tomorrow and we'll work something out." I gave him an unpleasant smile and grabbed my stilettos.

"Don't expect me to ever do this again" I stated firmly. He burned holes through my back with his angry gaze, as I strutted out of his apartment and down the hall.


	15. Getting What I Want

I woke up the next morning to find myself still holding my stilettos and wearing my vintage dress. _What a crazy night._ I thought to myself. I began questioning whether or not the event actually happened. _Was it a dream? Did he really ask me to **SLEEP** with him?_ All these questions repeated inside my head over and over again.

I gathered myself off the bed and stumbled out into the hall towards the bathroom. No one was up yet, so I decided to take a shower and prepare myself for the new day. I knew I would eventually have to call him, but I tried to think about other things to make myself less anxious. When that was all said and done, I picked up the phone and the business card lying beside it, and dialed the number. Three rings were heard before the secretary answered:

"Ross Gallagher's secretary Mary Thorpe, how might I help you?" I took a deep breath and stated my question.

"Yes, may I please speak to Mr. Gallagher? It's urgent." The lady paused for a moment before getting back on the phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He's in meetings all day. May I take a message?" she asked in an impassive voice.

"No…no. But thank you anyways." I hung up the phone and sat there on my bed tired and hardhearted. Ross was one of those pig-like men, who squirmed their way to the top by making and breaking deals. However, I was the worse individual for actually acknowledging the deal that he made with me. I should have walked out once I heard those very words slip out of his mouth, but I was determined and stubborn. So stubborn in fact, that I almost gave myself away just to be kicked to the curve. No, I wasn't going to let that happen.

I grabbed my keys and my cell phone, as I headed for the coat closest. Pulling out my black tweed jacket, I took the cream-colored hangar out from under it and placed it back on the railing. I looked down at the business card one last time, as I pulled my jacket on and headed for the door; careful not to wake Jesse and Janet.

The streets of London were cold at this time in the morning and on top of all of that, it was raining cats and dogs. I ran through the harsh wind that blew and the miniature-sized droplets of hail, flagging down a taxi with the waving of my hands. One finally pulled off to the side, as I scrambled to get the door open and jump inside.

"Where to?" the taxi driver grumbled, as I situated myself in the backseat.

"Oh, um…1476 Wickshire Ave. please." The driver was off in a flash, as buildings and people passed by. I laid my head against the window, watching the toll meter every now and then. Taxi drivers were always known to take the longer route to places, so they could sneak more money after you. So, alert and unwavering, I sat there watching every street sign and turn that we made.

Finally, the cab stopped, as I rummaged through my coat pocket and handed him a twenty dollar bill.

"Thanks" I mouthed, as I pulled myself out of the vehicle and walked towards the building. The outside was entirely constructed with glass. I could see the people and the elevators moving up and down inside. Woman and men a like, entered the building with perfectly tailored suits and black leather bags. This was definitely not my scene.

Advancing towards the steps, I swept back my hair away from my face and smiled. This would be interesting.

Once inside, I walked over to a large plaque hanging on the wall. It had the names of all the associates and employers who worked in the building.

"Edwards, Eden, Fredrick…" I mumbled to myself, as I ran my finger down the list of names.

"Farrell…Gallagher!" I announced, as I continued to run my finger across the plaque. It read 'Floor 7, office 645'. Immediately, I paced over to the nearest elevator and pushed the button to go up. When the doors opened, twenty people rushed out all talking on their cell phones. They all looked extremely sophisticated with their expensive watches and for the women, beautiful diamond jewelry. I stepped back letting them pass, as I tried to make myself unnoticeable. It didn't work very well, as many of the businessmen and women stared and sneered at my clothing. _Nice to meet you to!_ I yelled inside my head.

The elevator ride up was nerve-wreaking. I knew Ross would be extremely upset at the fact that I was showing up at his office, but that didn't really phase me. What did worry me was the possibility that he might call security.

The doors opened and sitting there at the front desk (entirely made out of granite) was who I presumed to be the secretary.

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman with long blonde hair and large blue eyes tittered.

"Where would Mr. Gallagher be at this moment?" I quibbled, advancing towards the desk.

"He's in a meeting down the hall right now. Do you have an appointment, miss?" she reiterated again. I ignored her, as I slowly made my way down the hall towards what I believed to be the conference room.

"Miss, you can't go in there…he's in the meeting right now!" I could hear her heels clicking across the hardwood floors, as she continued to pursue me.

"Miss…Miss" the secretary implored helplessly. I turned the knob to the large glass door at the end of the hall and opened it. A long table stood at the center of the room. Metal coasters were molded inside the glass and were strategically placed by every person's chair. There must have been twenty people who turned their heads to look at me, as Ross continued to talk without notice. Then, a few seconds later, he stopped too, as his secretary stumbled inside loudly.

"I'm so sorry, sir! This woman demanded to—"

"I really need to talk to you…" I butted in, as I saw his whole face flush. Ross set the pointer down and threw the flap over the project board placed on top of an easel.

"If you'll excuse me one moment, ladies and gentlemen. I just have to take care of this little disturbance." With that, Ross briskly marched out, grabbing me forcefully by the arm.

"Mary, it's alright. Just go back to the front desk and let me handle this" he barked commandingly.

"Should I call security, sir?" the secretary urged, giving me the evil eye.

"No, no, that won't be necessary. Just go back to your work." Ross gave her a small smile, as she slowly turned and made her way back down the hall. Then, directing his attention at me, Ross tightened his grip around my arm and shifted me towards him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he spat in anger, as I could feel myself bruising.

"Let…go of me!" I snapped in response, as he leaned in closer to quiet me. Releasing his grip around my arm, I took a step back and shook my head.

"I came here to talk about last night." Ross licked his lips and put his hands on his hips.

"There's nothing to talk about. Our deal was off, remember?" he verbalized slyly.

"What…but you said—" I started in a small voice.

"—Yah, I said if you slept with me I'd give you what you wanted, but you didn't!" he spat furiously at my face, as his voice dropped lower. I began to take a few more steps back, as I swung around to leave.

"Wait! Where are you going?" he shouted, grabbing both my arms this time. A cruel glint sparkled in my eyes, as I gently removed his hands from around me.

"Ever been on the seven o'clock news before?" I declared, articulating every single word.

"You wouldn't!" he growled, placing his face inches away from me. I took a short breath avoiding his eyes.

"I'll do what I have to. Just think of it now, "Gallagher assaults and attempts to rape—"

"That's blackmail!" he roared, as he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me so close to him that I could barely breathe. My heart rate quickened, as I clutched to him in slight desperation; afraid of what he was capable of.

"I gave you what I thought you deserved last night" I whispered softly. His eyes shot up, as he brushed his lips against mine.

"You bitch…" he mumbled. I gulped hard and let out a ragged breath.

"Let go of me…" I managed to stammer. His grip finally released, as he took a step back, eyeing the glass door not far from them.

"Then, I'll give you what I think you deserve."

"Which is?" I puffed slowly.

"No media coverage. You already broke off that portion" he proclaimed, as he ran his hand down the side of his face.

"Here's what I'll do. I'll buy you a plane ticket to Harare for tomorrow and then, I'll schedule for you to pick up supplies there. I know this guy who can help you, alright?" I nodded, as I crossed my arms about my chest.

"But you have to promise me, that if I do this for you, you'll leave my reputation alone?" he huffed firmly. I stared down at the ground in contemplation before I looked up once more.

"Promise?" I questioned, looking into his green eyes.

"Promise" rolled off of his tongue. I nodded in affirmation.

"I'll have someone send you the flight information, etc, tonight. Now, I would like you to leave" Ross scolded, as I could see the nerves in his face twitch with aggravation. He was trying really hard to maintain his composure. I just turned and walked away from him, as I could hear the door click into the conference room. My eyes closed for a moment, as I brought my hand to my forehead. It was all over. I was going back to the relief camp and back to even bigger problems.

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I spent the rest of the day doing things that satisfied me. I went to the mall and got a hair cut. All my gorgeous chestnut locks were cut off, and I was left with hair that came to my shoulders and flipped out at the ends. It was definitely a big change from the normal, plain Jane, Rory. Then, I roamed around to a few stores and bought a bunch of button-down shirts and cargo pants. I added shorts to my list and tons of bug spray. When it came to the shoes, I made a special attempt to get the cutest-looking pair that were comfortable, but usable. My entire day was spent this way, as I made my way home to begin packing.

Jesse was inside the apartment when I stumbled in with ten bags in tow.

"Hey, what'd you do? Buy out the whole store?" he joked, taking the heavy bags from me.

"Thanks" was all I said in response, as I sauntered over to the olive colored couch and laid against the pillow.

"You know, Janet and I were really worried about you this morning. You weren't in your room and we tried calling your cell phone…" He looked at me with an expression of concern, as he paced over to the side of the couch.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked. I denied him an answer for a while, as I clutched tightly to the pillow.

"I'm leaving tomorrow" I whispered. I could see his forehead crease, as he peered down at me with his large brown eyes.

"So soon…" he choked. I closed my eyes and sniffled.

"Remember how I told you I met someone?" Jesse nodded, as he ran his fingers across my cheek.

"His name's Tristan and he owns the relief camp I went to." Jesse lifted his hand away and sighed.

"Why are you telling me this?" he whined in frustration, as he turned his back to me.

"Because I know you Jesse…you still do care about 'us' don't you?"

"There is no 'us'? he shouted loudly, as he began to pace around the room.

"Then why are you acting like this?" I tried again. Jesse wouldn't look at me or even acknowledge my question.

"As I said before, I'm happy for you. Just let him know…that he's a lucky guy." Jesse's voice dropped extremely low, as he marched out of the room and down the hall. I could hear the door to his room slam, as my eyes shut tightly. _Oh Jesse, why do you have to make everything difficult? _I thought to myself half-heartedly. And with that, I remained laying there for a while, wondering, thinking; being.

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_Hey guys: So, I'm sure some of you are excited that Rory is returning to the relief camp in the next chapter. Tons of stuff is bound to happen of course;) Review if you liked this chapter or have any suggestions plot-wise for me!!!! TTYL_


	16. Four Soldiers

"So that should be the last shipment!" the African man wearing a green shirt and khaki pants hollered. I mouthed a goodbye, as the truck pulled out and we drove away.

"It's dangerous in Zimbabwe right now. You shouldn't be here" the man driving told me. He had a flat nose and a pointy chin. His eyes were as black as night and his hair was done up in various braids.

"Oh…and why's that?" I asked uncaringly. The man just smirked, as he pointed to some of the people rallying in the streets. The flag was being burned at the center of the protest, as screams and yells were heard from all around us.

"What's going on?" I asked in panic, as a man carrying a handgun knocked on my window. I noticed his uniform and almost instantly became nervous. It was green like the Commander's and his soldiers' uniforms. Other people advanced towards our truck, beginning to hit the sides of the vehicle.

"They're the rebels" he gritted between his teeth, as he flashed the man a red cloth. The soldier stopped knocking violently and stepped back. The other rebels did the same, as they all stuck up their middle fingers. We proceeded to drive away.

"What does the red cloth mean?" I injected, while picking up the worn rag.

"It's their color. If I would not have done that, we'd both be dead" he remarked, taking the cloth from me with his hand. I continued to stare at him, as I could feel myself shift uneasily in my seat.

"And what about you?"

"What do you mean about me?" he spat in his thick accent. I remained perfectly still, trying to keep myself calm.

"Do you support the rebels?" I importuned in a small voice. The African man gripped tighter around the steering wheel, as he sped up.

"Look around you…" he finally asserted.

"These women, these children…" he whispered in a low, hoarse voice. I looked outside to see young women carrying their children on one hip and their belongings on top of their heads in baskets. One person was even carrying a gun.

"My family died because of the rebels and you're going to ask whether or not I support them!" he ranted, as he slammed his hand against the steering wheel. I jumped up a little frightened, as we steered off onto a dirt road. The tires convulsed against the rocks and the humps that lined the ground.

"I didn't mean—" I began in a whisper.

"No, you didn't think!" he roared again. I shifted my eyes to the road ahead and let out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry…" I admitted quietly. The African man did not even respond, as we continued on our journey.

All of a sudden, four men came out from behind the brush pointing guns at our truck. The African driver was forced to come to a halt.

"Oh my god…" I muttered in apprehension, as I clutched my hand around the door handle. The African man who was driving stuck his head out of the window and yelled something at them in his language. They were soldiers. I could tell by their uniforms; and they were approaching the side of the truck towards my door.

The one soldier motioned for me to get out of the truck with his gun. I shook my head, as I could feel pure terror run over me.

"What do they want?" I began to shriek.

"Listen to me—" the African man ordered.

"No…no" I muttered in panic, as the soldier standing outside, pointed at me and then, pointed at the ground in front of him.

"Listen to me!" the African man sitting beside me roared, as I turned my eyes to reach his dangerous ones.

"I want you to get out of the truck very slowly and do as they say. Do you understand me?" I shut my eyes tightly, as I could feel a tear run down my cheek.

"I can't…" I whispered breathlessly.

"Yes, you can! Do you want to get us both killed?" he yelled, as he grabbed my face with both of his hands forcefully.

"Go!" he barked, as he vigorously let go of me. I was pushed against the door. It took everything inside of me to reach down and lift up the door handle; ultimately, unlatching it. The soldier swung open the door and grabbed my hand dragging me down. I landed on my knees, as I scrambled to get up. At this point, tears were running down my face and I was gasping for air uncontrollably.

I could hear the door on the opposite side of the truck close, as a soldier pushed the African driver over to where I was standing.

"Please…sir" I pleaded in a faint voice. The soldier's hand came out of nowhere and smacked me across the face. I flung to the ground panting. Reaching my hand up to my jaw, I could feel blood trickling down from my fresh wound.

"You bastard!" the African driver yelled at the soldier.

"She is an American!" he retorted in anger. I remained on the ground unmoving. Then out of nowhere, a shot was fired. A body fell on top of me, as a wet liquid seeped through my clothing. Lifting myself up, I realized my greatest horror. The soldier had executed the African driver right next to me.

I couldn't handle it. I began to cough, as I wrapped my arms about my stomach. Feelings of nausea and utter disgust washed over me.

"No…no!" I cried, wiping my tears with my sleeve.

"He never did anything! He was protecting me…" I fell to my knees and looked up at them. There was no expression on their faces. Everything was disconnected and cold.

"He was protecting me…" I restated, as I covered my hand over my mouth and let out a loud sob. The tears rolling down my cheeks burning my skin. For the first time in a long time, I felt utterly alone.

The soldier who I assumed shot the African driver, motioned for me to stand up and follow them. I did so reluctantly, still grasping my stomach. My eyes briefly glanced over at the dead body and the pool of blood flowing from his head. That was the last straw.

I clasped my hand to my mouth and fell to the ground. Vomit rolled up from out of mouth and stung the lining of my throat. A mixture of tears and sickness caused me to roll over and close my eyes. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the bright sun and the rolling clouds that consumed a blue sky.

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I stirred uncomfortably, as I weakly lifted my hand to my head. A wet cloth had been placed on top of my forehead. _What…Where am I? _I thought to myself in disarray. Opening up my eyes, I found myself inside a tent of some sort. There was a bookshelf in one corner of the space and a desk standing next to it; on the other side stood a wooden dresser and a tall lamp.

My jaw felt raw and swollen without even touching it. My head felt like it was ready to explode and every muscle in my body ached. I kept on flashing back to the picture of the dead body lying on the road. Just thinking of the blood and the cold expression on the solders' faces made me shiver violently. I let out a ragged breath, as I shut my eyes and placed my hand over my chest. It comforted me to feel my own heartbeat and to know that I was still alive.

Shuffling noises were heard outside the tent. This made my nerves hype up to the max. I scrabbled up in horror, as I watched a figure approach me.

"Get away!" I cried faintly, trying to throw my weak body off the bed and escape. The figure held onto me firmly.

"Rory…it's me! It's alright, love!" I peered up to find John gazing down at me.

"Oh my…John!" I wailed, stretching out my arms in the form of a hug.

"I've—missed you—so much…" I sobbed, not being able to detach myself from him. He gently quieted me with his soothing voice and ran his fingers through my hair.

"It's alright…you're safe now, love" he purred into my ear. I gulped hard, loosening my grip around him.

"How did I get here?" I inquired shakily. John put his finger to my lips to shush me.

"You don't need to be worry'in yourself over that right now, love. You need rest." He pushed me back gently and pulled the covers up to my neck.

"John…they killed a man right in front of me" I choked slowly, as I looked up and wiped the tears under my eyes.

"And the worst part…it's all my fault" I sniveled, flashing a fake smile, as if everything was just peachy. The fake smile faded, as it formed into a quivering frown. John ran his fingers through his hair and opened his mouth.

"Yah, they're brutal people, love. I'm sorry you had to see that" he asserted compassionately. I stared down at the comforter without blinking. All the muscles in my face relaxed, as I remained unresponsive like this for a while. Not even a couple minutes later, I heard another person lift up the flap and walk into the tent. My eyes stayed in their fixed position, as I stared off blankly.

"She'll probably want to talk to you a little more" I could hear John say to the person standing at the end of my bed. My eyes closed, as I sniffled and took in a long breath. I couldn't help, but bite my lip and shake my head.

"Why?" I questioned, as I scrunched my forehead. The person gradually made their way to the side of the bed and brushed back the strands of hair from my face. The touch was warm and so familiar.

I opened my blue, teary-eyes to see Tristan's face staring down at. I let out a disbelieving chuckle, as I turned my head away from him.

"I don't know what to say right now…" he began in a low voice. I clutched to the pillow under my head and shut my eyes once more.

"Life has a way of surprising all of us, I guess. I'm sorry…" his voice trailed off, as he turned his back to me and grunted.

"I'm going about this the wrong way, aren't I?" I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at his back. He turned around and stared into my eyes questioningly.

"What are you talking about?" I murmured, as a tear rolled down my cheek. His expression turned to that of fear and uncertainty.

"I can't even begin to relate to what you went through this afternoon…I just thought you'd like to know that." I stared down at the ground internalizing the meaning of the statement. I could hear him let out a sigh and then, chuckle.

"Come on…say something" he muttered in a hoarse voice. I could tell I was making him uncomfortable.

"I just want to be alone right now" I injected gently. I peered up to find his eyes staring down at the ground and his hands on his hips. Tristan's hair was ruffled this way and that on his head. His muscular body and tanned forearms made me groan aloud.

"Yah…I should" he muttered, motioning towards the entrance. I blinked once or twice before pulling the blanket around me tighter.

"Goodnight" he finally said, as he sauntered out of the tent.

_I've missed you Tristan._ I thought inside my head. The statement was entirely true. If I missed anyone at this camp more than life itself, it was Tristan. I was just so relieved that I woke up in one of his tents, then in some foreign tent with a soldier.


	17. Truth or Dare

_Hey guys: So, just a reminder, reviews are most certainly welcome. Even if you just thought the chapter was mediocre, TELL ME:0 That way, I know that I'm not just writing this for the heck of it!!!! Thanks_

_Brittany_

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I woke up the following morning better than I did the night before. My jaw still throbbed and my muscles ached, but everything else seemed normal. John and Dan came to see me twice to discuss my absence. As expected, I went into great detail when it came to explaining my encounter with Ross Gallagher and the delivery of the supplies.

"Speaking of the supplies"—I began—"did they arrive at the relief camp when you guys brought me here?" John peered over at me and gave me a quick nod.

"Oh, yah. That's why Tristan felt so guilty last night when he came to talk to ya—"

"Tristan felt guilty?" I cut in with disbelief. John nodded once more, as he got up from the chair and stretched. His thin, bony body wasvisible through the linen shirt that clung to him.

"I should be going and you should get some rest" John ordered, as he ambled over to me. Leaning down quickly, he gave me a soft peck on the cheek and grinned.

"I missed you, love" John declared tenderly.

"Well, I did too!" Dan shouted from behind him defensively.

"You act as if you're the only one." I giggled a little, as I stood up and walked over to Dan. Giving him a quick hug, I received a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"John's right about one thing, you need your rest, dear." I bobbed my head up and down in agreement. Then, dragging myself to the twin-sized bed, I situated my limp body underneath the covers. Dan and John waved, as they lifted up the flap and departed.

I couldn't help, but smile at what John had said about Tristan. I never knew that he could have ever felt guilty about anything. Tristan had always put on this act of being the tough, 'I can stand anything'-type of guy. In a way, that general quality turned me on, but it also made me question him. Sure, he was strong and domineering, but could he ever be sensitive. Then, I thought back to the night in the tent, when he made me lie down and close my eyes. _Of course, he's sensitive!_ A little voice in the back of my mind yelled, as I flashed back to the romantic way he kissed my stomach.

I spent majority of the day inside the tent, either resting or looking around. Browsing through his bookshelf, I found some of my favorite novels and magazines. It puzzled me how similar our tastes were. I even found a little kids book that I assumed to be a childhood possession. On the inside cover it read:

'_To my darling Tristan_

_With Love,_

_Mom and Dad'_

The encryption made a small smile creep up onto my face and remain there for the rest of the day. As nightfall began to sweep through the camp, my anxiety and nerves became uncontrollable. I felt restless and needed a way to escape the familiar surroundings. So, I took a walk to the West side of camp and up the hill. Thinking that I'd be alone there to just meditate and reflect on my thoughts, I found a group of volunteers sitting up there. Among them were John, Dan, Domini, Matt and Tristan.

"She's up!" John bellowed, as I approached the group situated in a circle.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked in a small voice, worried that I might have possibly disrupted something.

"Oh, we're just playing Truth or Dare. Do you want to join?" Matt asked in a clear, concise voice. I shifted my gaze uneasily on the ground, as I played with my fingers nervously.

"Sure…" I muttered after a while, as I came and took a seat by Dan. Upon sitting down on the sand, I realized that I was directly seated across from Tristan. I flashed a shy smile at him and directed my attention towards the older man who was speaking.

"Now, we all know the rules to this game. I'll go first" he hummed, looking around for a victim.

"You!" he called, pointing at John sitting a couple people away from me.

"Me…" John inquired uncomfortably, as he pointed to himself. The older man with thinning white hair and wrinkly skin nodded.

"Truth or dare?" John looked around at the circle of people with narrowed eyes and then, stated his response.

"Dare" The older man brought his hand up to his chin and stroked it in contemplation. Then, after a few seconds, a smile flashed on his face.

"I dare you to run through camp without any clothes on" John's eyes shot open in horror, as he scooted back.

"You're not actually going to have me do that, are ya?" he screeched in a high-pitch voice. Everyone in the circle cheered, as they began to chant his name.

"You're the one who chose dare!" the older man rebuked, as he put his hands out and shrugged his shoulders. I watched as John stood up slowly and licked his lips.

"Can't I get undressed somewhere else and then, run out naked through the camp?" he questioned, as he gulped hard. I could see his entire face turning red.

"Well, I don't see why you can't just do it right here!" the older man yelled, as his entire face began to shake with laughter. I shielded my eyes and let out a groan, as John pulled off his shirt and threw it at me.

"You're next!" he cried, as I giggled in dismay. After all his clothes had been stripped, I opened my eyes to watch him run down the hill howling like a crazy person. His butt cheeks were lily white and his back was extremely thin; not to mention, his legs were like toothpicks.

"Come back here!" the old man finally roared, motioning for John to end his humiliation.

"That'd a boy, John!" I cheered, as he ran back covering himself up with his hands. I threw his shirt back at him, as he speedily changed back into his clothes.

After a couple of minutes, John sat back down panting and a little overwhelmed.

"Now, it's your turn, love…" he whispered slyly, pointing in my direction. I blushed wildly, as I took a deep breath.

"Truth or dare?" he announced, as he tried to steady his breathing. After seeing the effects of what a dare could result in, I went with the other alternative.

"Truth" I mumbled nervously. A sneaky grin wiped onto to John's glowing face, as he exhaled deeply.

"Do you have a crush on my man, Tristan, over here?" I could feel my entire face burn with embarrassment. The volunteers in the circle all ewed loudly, as if we were all in the fifth grade again.

"I'm not going to answer that…" I mumbled, darting my eyes at Tristan. I could see him looking intently at me; unwavering. My mouth opened only to close again, as I bit my lip.

"Come on Rory…you already chose truth" John teased, as everyone bobbed their heads in approval. I exhaled shakily, avoiding anyone's eyes. Then, I let the word roll off my tongue.

"Yes…" I mumbled. I blushed and smiled shyly, as I covered my face with my hands.

"I knew it!" John yelped with merriment, as he ran over to me and gave me a brief hug. I pushed him away, angry that he made me confess such a personal feeling.

"Now, it's your turn…"

I peered around the circle at every face, but Tristan's and ended up with Dan beside me.

"Dan…sweetie"—I cackled, as I patted him lightly on the shoulder—"you're next!" Dan shook his head with skepticism and peered over at me.

"Truth or Dare" I presented, as I placed my hands on top of my thighs.

"Truth" he shot out quickly. I nodded my head and thought for a moment. _What can I ask him that would make him melt like ice?_ I questioned myself. Then, it hit me.

"Have you made-out with Domini?" Dan was silent for a moment, as I flashed my eyes at Tristan and Domini sitting next to one another.

"True" Dan choked, as he smacked his hand against his forehead. I watched as Tristan turned to Domini in utter surprise and as the petite woman shrunk back in embarrassment. The whole thing made me grin, as I straightened up my posture and let out a small grunt. Dan spread out his arms to silence all the commotion and gossiping that was going on in the circle, as he looked over at me and then, at Tristan.

"Tristan" he called out, as I watched his blue eyes flare at Dan.

"Truth or Dare?" For a second, I could feel my heart drop. I knew that Dan was going to make me pay for asking that question; and when Dan took revenge, it was usually to the max.

"Dare" Tristan declared with ambiguity. Dan smirked and then, ran his fingers through his sweaty, short curls.

"I dare you…to kiss Rory." With that, I let out a loud gasp, as my heart rate sped up.

"You planned this, didn't you?" I barked at him, as my eyes blazed with aggravation and fright. Then, a low chuckle was heard from across me. I turned my head to stare at Tristan. He was covering his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter.

"What…scared to kiss me?" Tristan sputtered, as he bit his lip. I shook my head slowly, as my mouth fell agape.

"I'm—I'm not scared…" I stammered, trying to make myself appear confident. Tristan stood up with a blank expression. His eyes still pierced through me.

"Are you gonna come over here or am I gonna have to go over there?" he announced with a steady gaze. I hated the way his eyes pinned me into a corner and forced me to react. My body slowly began to collect itself, as I found myself walking towards him in a trance. Then, I stopped a foot away. He bit his lip again and slowly licked them, examining me from the chest up. The act was killing me inside. I began to gulp…hard, as I could feel my legs quivering beneath me.

I could sense Domini's tenseness next to us, as I took a step forward. Now, we were only inches apart from one another. I stared at his chest, unsure of how to approach the whole thing. His eyes remained fixed on me, as he lifted up my chin with his fingertips. I watched as a smirk developed on his moist lips.

"What do you want?" he finally injected in a whisper. I glanced around me in uneasiness, as I was met with several eyes all watching us.

"Forget them…" he ordered softly, titling my chin up to him.

"What do you want?" I peered up into his tempestuous blue eyes and his perfectly chiseled nose. Tristan's hair was all ruffled and stubble lined the sides of his face. A bit of his muscular-tanned chest was poking out from the missed button on his shirt.

I closed my eyes and let out a ragged breath, as I licked my lips one more time and took another step forward. I hoped that that would indicate what I wanted. Our bodies were flesh against each other. I could feel the heat sweltering off of him, as his breath tickled my neck. His gentle fingers were stroking the sides of my face, as he examined my features; as if I was his portrait and he was the painter.

Then, he dipped his head close to mine and rubbed his cheek against my cheek; breathing in deeply. I smelled the familiar scent of lavender soap and panted for air. He was making me crazy, the way he smelled, the way he touched me; the way everything felt so innocent, even though I knew it wasn't. I ended up gripping onto his shirt for support, breathing hard into his ear.

He finally took this as a sign that I was ready to give in. Bringing his lips close to mine, I latched on passionately, as I clung to him tighter; not wanting to ever let go. I pulled him in closer as if he was air and I was the lungs that needed to be filled by him. My breathing became extremely shallow, as he detached and nibbled on my bottom lip, kissing me gently. I couldn't help, but grind my hips against his, as he pulled back.

"Whoa…Rory, slow down" he muttered, as his eyes darted to the people around us. I blushed looking up at him, as I took a step back. Everyone clapped, as Tristan leaned over and kissed me on the head, while whispering in my ear:

"See, that wasn't so bad." I smiled, as I made my way back to my spot next to Dan. Instead of jabbing him in the side like I intended to do before, I gave Dan a quick hug. Honestly, I was glad that I shared that moment with Tristan. I just wished that there weren't any people around when it happened.

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_One Word: REVIEW!!!!!!_

_Love ya,_

_Brittany_


	18. Falling through: the days go by

_I do what he says but I  
end up falling off the edge  
I don't know what to do, never seems  
To end up being true  
Seeps in underneath the door  
Sinks in and stains the floor  
I don't know what to feel takes so long  
For these wounds to heal  
Tell me it's not really real_

These lyrics recited over and over inside my head, as I passed Tristan in the dining tent or out by the West side of Camp. We didn't acknowledge each other or even look in one another's direction; but deep down inside, I knew it was him and he knew it was me.

_You make me breakfast in bed  
when I'm mixed up in my head  
you wake me with a kiss  
I could get used to this  
you think I look the best  
when my hair is a mess  
I can't believe you exist_

_I could get used to this_

I'd be carrying boxes of supplies from the truck to under the main tent and all of a sudden, I'd spot him. He'd be wearing his white linen shirt rolled up to his elbows and khaki shorts that came down below his knees. A few buttons would be left open, so that his burly chest peeked through. I couldn't help, but stare for a moment and bite my lip. Then, he would turn and notice me standing there. In a flash, I'd be at my work again.

_Cuz you wrote my name across your hand  
when I freak you understand  
there is not a thing you miss  
and I could get used to this  
I'm feeling it coming over me  
with you it all comes naturally  
I've lost the reflex to resist  
and I could get used to this_

He'd be holding the finger of a baby's hand and smiling. There would be so much compassion in his eyes. I'd shake my head trying to make the feeling go away, but it never did. Each grin, each smile, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, when he was confused and sighed when he didn't know what to do. I felt myself going crazy, as if I was free falling and couldn't stop. My legs would go numb and my breathing would become incredibly shallow. For a brief second, our eyes would meet, but I would always be the first one to look away.

_You love the songs I write  
you like the movies I like  
there must be some kind of twist  
but I could get used to this  
cuz u listen to me when I'm depressed  
it doesn't seem to make you like me less_

_if there's a dark side to you I haven't seen it  
and every good thing ya do feels like ya mean it_

Night would fall, as I'd walk up the hill on the far side of camp. I would sit for long periods of time, gazing out over the hundreds of tents and lit lanterns. Every now and then, I felt a pair of eyes watching me or I heard a rustle in the distance, but when I turned around, no one was there. It made me wonder how Tristan spent his nights; what he was thinking about, when I wasn't around. I tightened my grip about my legs and buried my chin in my knees. _If only you knew Tristan…If only you knew…_

_Because I'm fallen through,_

_I'm not really sure what to do,_

_My heart can't take this pain anymore,_

_Because of you, yah,_

_Because of you, yah,_

_You never once…called my name,_

_When I'm alone I see your face,_

_It breaks my heart knowing you're here,_

_And never once speaking to me…_

_Never once seeing the real me,_

_The real me._

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_Review, Review, Review: As you can tell, Rory is really falling for Tristan. But, does he feel the same way? Find out next Chap._

_Brittany_


	19. Rome

I was pacing around, putting clothes and various items away, when I noticed a blonde head pop through the opening of my tent.

"Hey. How ya feeling?" His voice was almost mechanical sounding, as I shrugged my shoulders. In all honesty, I didn't want to talk to him. Ever since that kiss up on the hill, the tension between us became too much to bear. One minute we'd be having a normal conversation and the next, lust would be the only thing on our minds. I started to wonder whether or not leaving for London was such a good thing after all. From where I was standing at the moment, my absence only complicated the feelings that were shared between us.

"So, what…I don't get a hello…or even a nod?" Tristan babbled, as he came up behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist. At the sudden feeling of contact, I dropped the blanket that I was carrying and staggered forward.

"Look…I have a lot of things to do right now" I injected, as I pushed myself out of his grasp and quickly walked over to my duffle bag.

"Can't you do that later?" he protested, as I swung around in fury.

"God, Tristan! I'm tired of you acting a certain way one moment and another way the next!" I huffed, as I swung back around and closed my eyes. My heart was beating fast and my throat seemed to seize shut. It felt like the hardest thing in the world to stand up and confront him.

I could hear his footsteps behind me, as he placed his warm hand on my shoulder.

"Tell me what's wrong?" His voice was low and filled with distress. I turned around to meet a pair of beautiful blue eyes peering down at me. They were the color of the sky at the water's edge before the sun rose; a splash of green and a hint of majestic blue blended together to form a loving and passionate combination. I was taken aback for a moment by how handsome he truly was; and this was him not even trying.

"Were you angry when I left for London?" I mumbled in a small voice. He gazed down for a moment, letting his hand snake down my arm and rest on my hip.

"A little, but I understand why you left—"

"Do you?" I cut in, as I narrowed my eyes with interest. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, letting some of the blonde strands fall over his eyes.

"Yah…I mean, I use to feel what you were feeling. That constant need to discover something greater than yourself…it's apart of life, Rory" he exclaimed, pulling me closer.

"But do you hate the fact that I left?" Tristan smirked a little, as he tightened his grip around my waist.

"I didn't hate it, but I didn't like it either…" his voice trailed off, as he tucked his head in towards mine. His soft lips brushed gently down my chapped ones, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake.

"Let's forget about this…what happens in the past, stays in the past…" he murmured, as he kissed me gently. I swallowed hard and wrapped my hands around his neck for support. For a second, we were unintentionally dancing in place. I was trying to steady my balance and he was attempting to push me down towards the sleeping bag.

"Tristan..." I mumbled, distracted by his legs getting tangled up in mine.

"Hmm?" he hummed gently, leaning his forehead down against mine. My heart beat even faster, as I could feel the anticipation and the anxiety setting in. Immediately, a hot flash swept over me, as I swallowed with difficulty.

"You don't think…this is just"—panting for air—"lust, do you?" With his head still rested against mine, he spun me around, as he intertwined his fingers with my fingers. We danced slowly inside the tent. The only music heard was the humming sound Tristan was softly making.

"I like you, if you haven't already figured that out…" I blushed, as I looked up at him. His lips were forming into the shape of a smile, as he rubbed his nose against mine. I nervously bit my lip, as we came to a stop. I felt like one of those wind up ballerinas in a music box. The only sounds were our shallow breaths. I inhaled sharply, as he dipped his heart-shaped face down near mine and lightly planted a kiss on my chin. Then, he worked his way up to my cheek, dragging his bottom lip ever so gently against my skin. Tristan lifted his head and let his blonde hair brush across my closed eye lids, as he nipped at the tender skin down my neck. I began to feel my legs melt into butter, as I let myself fall. The only thing holding me up was his strong arms about my waist. If he wanted me right then and there, he could have had me. I was way beyond resisting temptation or thinking rationally for that matter. Tristan's lips did all the talking and his hands made my hips do things I never experienced before. I found myself pushing my body into him; wanting to be filled by him.

"Tristan…" I moaned breathlessly, as he continued to leave a trail of supple, avid kisses down my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Then, he brought his face up to my eye level and I fell apart. I couldn't help it. It ached too much to stand up and face the feelings I had felt for him for so long. Surrendering to his touch and his scent was enough for me. The truth was that I was weak; so powerless and vulnerable. I brought my fingers to his hands and slowly pushed them down. I wanted him to let me fall. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted with me.

"Rory…remember?" he mouthed, as I moaned once more to entice him. My fingers continued to slide his hands away from my waist, letting me fall closer towards the sleeping bag on the floor. But, at each attempt, he tightened his grip about my waist and forced my chin up with his nose.

"I want you…" I whispered, kissing him gently. His lips detached, as he breathed my breath into his lungs.

"We don't know each other well enough…" I opened my mouth to refute his argument, but was met by a powerful kiss that resulted in dueling tongues. The pressure and the unawareness made me stagger backwards and bring him down with me. In one great thud, I had succeeded in pulling him into my greatest desire.

The metal tags that he wore twenty-four hours a day/seven days a week, dangled from his neck. I bit onto them playfully, as I smiled. Then, I lifted them into my fingers and examined the engraving.

"Where did you get these?" I giggled, as he leaned forward and sucked on my earlobe. I could feel his hot, sweltering breath burning the surface of my skin.

"New Castle United…" he muttered, as he continued with the task at hand.

"What does _Greyhound _mean?" I implied, running my index finger against the indention it made. Tristan heaved his body up with a grunt and propped himself up on one elbow.

"That's the nickname they gave me, once I entered the squad" he announced, as he ran his fingers through his hair. I dropped the tags and placed my small hand on top of his beating heart. The feeling made me smile. The rhythm and the emotion in each jolt created butterflies in my stomach. I came to the realization that I was the only one who could make him feel this way; make him go crazy for me. Tristan combed my loose strands of hair back behind my ears and sucked on his bottom lip.

"I have something to ask you…" he eloquently began. I smiled at how easily he could switch from being seductive to serious.

"My brother sent me this telegram a couple days ago from Rome, asking me if I wanted to go visit him." I nodded, waiting for him to continue. Tristan lifted up my shirt slightly and began to draw small circles with his fingertips on my hip.

"And I'd like you to come with me…" The words rolled off his tongue and made my eyes bulge out of their sockets.

"Are you serious?" I questioned, tugging on his buttoned-down shirt. He only chuckled and stared at my surprised expression.

"I think you'd really like him. He has a wife named Bianca and a son named Vincenzo, who's only about eight years old." I let out a long breath, as I ran my hand down my cheek.

"And he lives in Italy?" Tristan sighed and laid his head down on the sleeping bag. I did the same.

"He works for the family business and owns some big corporation that's stationed there. I hadn't seen him for awhile and thought this would be as good of a time as any." I couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. _Tristan belongs to a rich family! Who would have ever thought it…_I rambled on in my mind. The feeling of his fingers drawing shapes on the lower part of my hip interrupted my thoughts.

"Do you even speak Italian?" I teased, stroking my fingers down his chest. We were laying side by side, eyes locked on one another.

"Yah…I actually speak four languages besides English" he declared proudly. I raised my eyebrows in suspicion and tugged at the button on his shirt.

"Say something to me…in Italian" I implored, articulating every single word playfully. Tristan grinned, as he rolled over onto his back.

"Okay…Tu sei la ragazza più bella nel mondo" he whispered teasingly. The sound of the words made me want to make love to him right then and there.

"Now…what are the other languages?" He tussled his hair to the side and sighed.

"I know French, Swahili, Italian and Spanish…so take your pick" With that, I pulled out my next selection.

"In Spanish" I commanded. Tristan licked his lips and proceeded:

"Usted es la mujer más hermosa en el mundo" I giggled, as I bit my lip. I could feel the heat and attraction between us, as he spat out phrases I didn't understand.

"How about French…"

"Tu es la femme la plus belle dans le monde. " Tristan rolled his eyes and leaned over. His face was inches away from mine.

"And I'm guessing you want the English version now?" I bobbed my head up and down, smiling the entire time.

"I said 'you are the most beautiful woman in the world.'" I turned my head to face his eyes, idly watching me.

"Oh, Tristan…" I muttered, as a sigh escaped my mouth. He affectionately kissed my forehead and rested his against mine.

"Come with me…" he whispered. I brushed my fingers down the side of his face, as stubble prickled my delicate skin.

"For how long?" I questioned. Tristan closed his eyes and exhaled.

"Just for a couple days…you'll be back before your time here is up." The words 'your time here is up' frightened me. I had never thought over the fact that I would be leaving in less than two weeks. The sudden feeling made me sad and depressed. I found myself snuggling closer to him for support.

"I'll go…" I whispered, as I grabbed onto his forearm. He grinned, eyes still shut. I wanted to say something to let him know how I felt about him, but didn't know what would be considered appropriate. So, I just laid there beside him, listening to his steady breaths and his heartbeat; and that's where I fell asleep.


	20. Feeling Welcome: sort of

"Hey…Is everything alright?" Tristan demanded in sudden concern, as my hand rubbed away the ruminants of my upset stomach. I had thrown up in the washroom once we had arrived at Aeroporti di Roma (the International airport centered in Rome). A mixture of anxiety and motion sickness caused me to go over board. Everything was spinning and the only stable thing keeping me up was Tristan's sturdy arm.

"Yah, I'm fine. Just a little jetlagged, that's all" I murmured, flashing him a quick smile. Tristan nodded his head suspiciously and proceeded to take the heavy duffle bag that hung on my shoulder.

"So, do you any have preferences on whether or not we take a taxi or rent a car?" he asked gradually, as he searched around in his coat pockets and flipped out his cell phone.

"Don't you get charged insane amounts of money for calling in a foreign country?" I muttered, as I reached out my hand and rested it on his forearm for support.

"International service…" he mumbled, as he peered over at me hesitantly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" The sound of his voice rang in my ears, as I closed my eyes quickly. A giant flash of heat flowed over me and caused my body to slump forwards. The liquids in my stomach churned and flipped up and down, twisting my intestines. I was not my usual self at all. Peering over at Tristan, I began to see a fuzzy image of a blonde haired man wearing a blue North face jacket.

"Rory…look at me?" Tristan commanded, placing his hands on my cheeks. I shifted my gaze towards him unwilling, as he brought his face close to mine.

"Your eyes are completely bloodshot and you're shaking…" he exclaimed, as he wiped away the wisps of hair from my forehead.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I tossed my head sideways and ran my fingers through my hair. A major headache was consuming my thoughts and actions. I couldn't take it anymore. Tristan held up three fingers in front of my face, as I lethargically looked at him.

"Three…" I mumbled, as I shifted my weight onto my left leg.

"See, I'm fine." I threw my hands out, only to stagger backwards a little. Tristan opened his mouth in protest, but was stopped. His eyes immediately widened and his lips turned into the form of a grin. I cautiously spun around to find a man speedily approaching us. He was followed by a beautiful woman with soft black curls and a little boy with enormous blue eyes.

"Alex! What are you doing here?" Tristan cried, as he hugged the man tightly. Right away, I knew that the individual was his brother. Through the creases on the man's smiling face, I saw gorgeous hazel eyes and sparkling white teeth. His hair was a deep brown color and scattered about in disarray like Tristan's.

"How are you little bro?" Alex thundered, as he pulled back to look at Tristan. I smiled nervously and stepped off to the side.

"Oh, I'd like to introduce Rory. This is the girl I was telling you about" Tristan announced, pulling his arm around me. _Wait, he had a conversation about me?_ I questioned in my mind. My conscience didn't have time to relay an answer, as Alex squeezed me into a hug and kissed both sides of my face.

"Welcome to Roma!" he bellowed happily, as he let out a joyful chuckle. I couldn't help but smile at the polar opposites standing in front of me. There was Tristan, the intense, determined, go-getter, who would let you know what was on his mind; and then, there was Alex, who appeared to be a happy-go-lucky sort of guy. Not to mention that neither of them shared similar features. They were both built and muscular, but Tristan had more of a rugged and distinguished appearance; while Alex had an attractive, sophisticated aura to him. Alex was the oldest and took pride in that title. He had a longer, more prominent nose, which almost made him look like a natural born Italian. They were both adorable side-by-side and it sent every bone in my body shaking with happiness upon seeing them together.

"This is my lovely wife Bianca" Alex declared sliding the elegant looking woman in front of him. She had on a black petticoat and a long gray scarf that was flung over one shoulder. Her short black curls bounced about, as she shook my hand excitedly.

"Buon giorno" she muttered breathlessly, as a small boy flung his hands about her waist.

"Mama…" he cried, as Bianca stumbled sideways and laughed.

"Not now, Vincenzo." The little boy looked to be about seven or eight and had gorgeous blue eyes that must have been passed down from the long-line of Dugreys. His flowing brown curls matched his mother's beautiful hair. Peanut butter was smudged at the corners of his mouth and jelly coated some of his small fingers.

"And this little guy…"—Alex teased, pulling the giggling boy towards him and lifting him up in the air—"…is my son, Vincenzo." I peered over at Tristan to find a smile slipping onto his face. It touched my heart how much love he showed for the people standing before him. I rubbed my hand against Tristan's arm, as he broke his gaze away from the picture perfect image.

"What?" he mouthed with interest, as I grinned.

"I think I'm feeling a little better" I mumbled in an unimpressed manner. Tristan gave a small nod and returned his attention back to his brother.

"So, you never answered my question. What are you guys doing here?" Tristan inquired unrelentingly. Alex put down his son and placed his hands inside his coat pockets.

"I came to pick you guys up! Why else would I be here?" Bianca looked up at her husband with a raised brow, as she scooted her arm around him.

"Unless, you're on business…" she mumbled, resting her head against his chest. Alex chuckled softly and peered over at their son behind them.

"Vincenzo, get down from there." The little boy turned around at the sound of his father's voice and grinned mischievously.

"Kids…" he murmured, shaking his head. I couldn't stop myself from comparing the two men standing before me. Tristan looked like he was in control and would never put his guard down for anyone; while Alex, seemed to be more trusting and dependent on those around him. They completed each other and filled in what the other lacked.

"Well, should we get going?"

I nodded eagerly, as Tristan bent down and picked up our luggage.

"Long flight…" Tristan mumbled, grabbing my hand in his. The gesture was sweet and innocent. I found myself blushing, as he ran up beside me and tightened his grip around my fingers. Nervously, I followed Alex and his lovely family out to a black Porsche parked at the front entrance.

"I thought you're not allowed to park in this section?" I questioned looking uncertainly at the patrol guard not even five feet away.

"My brother has connections…" Tristan shyly answered, as a huge smile crept onto his face. The whole entire time, I was thinking: _I could definitely get use to this…_

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We drove for about thirty minutes before we arrived at an iron gate with two lion statues sitting at both ends.

"Oh, this is it!" Tristan blurted out, as he leaned back in his seat. My mouth opened in astonishment, as the gates opened and a humongous mansion pulled into view. A stone-like castle stood on a four-acre lot, surrounded with lush gardens and a club house.

"This is amazing…" I blubbered, trying to collect myself. The entire estate was absolutely beautiful. _And to think, this is the life-style Tristan grew up in! He did say it was a family business…_

The vehicle came to a halt, as everyone scrambled to open the doors.

"Mama…Può gioco il football?" the little boy yelled, while running up the grand steps leading to the front entrance of the mansion. Bianca nodded, as she yelled something back in Italian. I began to pull out the suitcases from the back trunk, when she stopped me.

"Don't bother with that…let Rosetta bring them in." I looked at her bewilderingly, as my questions were soon answered. Rosetta was the short, stubby maid that was currently running down the front steps in haste.

"Signora" she acknowledged cheerfully, as she passed Bianca.

"So, are you'a married?" I giggled a little at the question and shook my head, lifting up my bear wedding finger.

"No, I'm not married." Bianca smiled at me, as she leaned over to whisper in my ear:

"My English is not'a very good, but I think you will understand this"—she began— "I hope'a you marry my brother-in-law."

"You mean, TRISTAN!" I squawked, as I stared at her in surprise. Her black curls bounced up and down, nodding her head in affirmation.

"We're just friends right now. Nothing more…" I whispered, cautiously looking behind me. Bianca pressed her lips together and shook her head. She then placed her hand on the door handle.

"Then, I hope'a you are ready for some competition." I furrowed my eyebrow in puzzlement, as she pushed the large door open. The aroma of turkey and mashed potatoes danced beneath my nose. Looking around the front foyer, I saw a winding staircase leading down to a marble floor. A beautiful grand piano sat positioned beside the curved wall. Descending the steps rather quickly was a woman a little shorter than me. She had black hair that was pulled back into a pony tail and pretty brown eyes.

The woman stopped in her tracks once she saw me and flashed an unpleasant smirk. The smirk only widened into a smile, when Tristan walked through the doorway. He was helping Rosetta carry in the luggage.

"Tristan!" she shrieked, running down the steps once more and darting towards him. The mysterious woman wrapped her arms about his neck and gently kissed the side of his face.

"Jessica…what are you doing here?" Tristan asked, a little taken aback. I could tell by the flabbergasted expression on his face, that he wasn't expecting this sort of visitor.

I narrowed my eyes apprehensively and placed one hand on my hip. Noticing this, Tristan detached himself from her and paced over to me.

"Ah Jessica, this is Rory…Rory…Jessica" he announced, motioning between the two of us. She was thin and curvy. The only thing that was striking about her was her large breast size. I extended my hand, trying to be kind, as she shrugged it away.

"So, I've never met you before" she began in a sharp tone. I could feel Tristan's hands creeping along the sides of my waist, trying to calm me. It was true; I didn't like this snob one bit.

"Yah well, Tristan and I met only a few days ago" I stated confidently, as I titled my head back and smiled at him. He returned the gesture and pushed himself further against my backside.

"That's nice…" she spat out nonchalantly. It felt like with every look she gave me, a cold chill would run down my spine.

"Tristan and I use to be old childhood friends back at boarding school, isn't that hun?" I winced at the word "hun" and immediately, felt my cheeks begin to burn. This woman was irritating my nerves like you couldn't imagine. It was from the way she flipped her hair to the way she put on a fake, peppy performance. But, I could see right through her. In the back of my mind, I knew she had evil written all over her.

Tristan nodded in response to her previous question, as Alex paced into the room to announce that dinner was ready. We all gathered ourselves into the dining room and proceeded to sit down at the huge, mahogany table. Tristan sat on one side of the table and I sat next to him. Unfortunately, Jessica slipped right in beside him as well. I couldn't stand the way she began to lay her head on his shoulder and whisper things in his ear. Tristan sensed my frustration and gently stroked my hand under the table. It was strange for me to get jealous because I had never acted that way before or ever needed to. _I guess, there's a first for everything…_I thought to myself, as I placed my hand on Tristan's leg. Immediately, his head perked up, as a smile swept onto his face. _Maybe, I did something right. _I began to stroke my fingers up and down his leg, making him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.

"Tristan, are you alright?" I could hear Jessica squeak in her annoying voice. Tristan nodded, trying to hide his reddening face. I removed my hand from his leg and rested it on top of the table.

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Dinner was absolutely delicious and extremely filling. The servers brought out seven courses ranging from a variety of soups to meats, vegetables, and finally, deserts. I laid contently next to Tristan on the couch, as he played with my hair. Then, Jessica walked into the room.

"Hey buddy…" she muttered, as she smashed her way between us. I moved to the other side of the couch, flustered and incredibly angry.

"So, tell me about life after stardom" she exclaimed enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes and crossed my hands about my chest.

"Well, I got a job working in the foreign relations department at the UN, as you know…and then, the rest is history."

"What do you mean 'history'?" she cried, hitting Tristan playfully across the chest.

"I started a relief camp in Zimbabwe with my savings" Tristan declared. Jessica's eyes widened, as she sat up straight.

"Shut up! You did not!" she shrieked in a voice that sounded like nails down a chalkboard. Tristan nodded his head and bit his lip. The whole time, I wanted to pounce on her for stealing my spot next to him.

"So, do you ever miss being the famous footballer known as 'the Greyhound'? she asked in a melodramatic voice. A small smirk made its way onto his face, as his nose scrunched up.

"Of course I miss the game, but not the fame…no, the fame I could live without." Jessica sat back against the couch and folded her legs beneath her. I admired the ponytail that cascaded down the side of her shoulder, as she shook her head, making her dangly earrings jingle.

"You always were different Tristan…that's what I missed about you and your brother for that matter." She shot a lighthearted expression towards Alex and was returned with two raised eyebrows.

"You were the wild child back then…" Alex remarked, gazing off into the distance.

"Oh, but come on. I was the life of the party, wasn't I?" The two brothers laughed, as they nodded in agreement.

"That, you were…" Tristan muttered, resting his head on the palm of his hand. Jessica sighed, as she swept her hand across the top of her head.

"Harvard was just not the same without you, Trist. I really missed you…" With those softly spoken words, I cracked. Apparently, this woman I just met a couple of hours ago still had feelings for Tristan. And these feelings were more than those exchanged by friends. Tristan looked over at Jessica and smiled lazily. Then, he dropped his gaze in heavy contemplation.

The room remained quiet for a while, as I sat on my end of the couch tensely. Finally, Alex's son, Vincenzo, broke the ice.

"Papa…Ho calciato il football lontano e ha atterrato. ..a il miglio lontano" the boy cried with excitement. The whole time, his brown curls bounced up and down on top of his head.

"What did he say?" I inquired in a small voice. My answer was met by two people at once: Tristan and Jessica.

"Oh, go ahead. You know more Italian than me anyways" Jessica reasoned, scooting herself closer to him. Tristan looked over at me, only to find a pair of glaring eyes.

"He said that he kicked the football and it landed a mile away." I nodded, as I tore my eyes away from him. To me, this was supposed to be our bonding time together. Our time to figure each other out mentally and what I hoped, physically. However, this woman was ruining everything. It made me wonder whether or not Tristan cared for Jessica, as much as she obviously cared for him. I shut my mouth tightly and let out a grunt. _I'm losing him…_I thought to myself in frustration. _I've got to step it up._


	21. A Stranger in the Crowd

I woke up the next day surrounded by satin sheets and a fluffy white comforter. The bedroom that Alex stuck me in was absolutely gorgeous. A mural of angels was painted on the ceiling and multi-colored ceramic tiles decorated the floor. A small fountain hung on the wall opposite of the bed and allowed a slight amount of water to trickle out onto the basin. Overall, the atmosphere of the space was relaxing and peaceful. I never wanted to leave it.

A few minutes later, I heard a loud knock on my door. Popping up my head from under the cream pillow, I looked around in a daze. Sleep still rested heavily on my mind and body at the moment. Gradually pulling myself out of the warm, cozy bed, I staggered over to the ten-foot tall door. To my surprise, Tristan stood on the other side, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants. His entire upper-half was exposed, revealing his muscular arms and distinguished abs. There was a happy trail of fine hair that started from his belly button and led down to his navy blue boxers. They hung higher than his pants. I had to control myself from looking down and attempted to do this by gripping onto the wooden framing surrounding the door.

"Hey…" he murmured, pushing me backwards and playfully smashing me against the wall. Immediately, the smell of aftershave and cologne filled the air. His swift breaths made the hair on my neck stand on end. I clung to his sides, digging my fingernails into his skin. Tristan positioned his hand on the wall next to my head and groaned drowsily.

"How'd you sleep?" he whispered, as he rested his nose against mine and looked into my eyes. I swallowed with difficulty and inhaled deeply.

"Fine…you?" I answered in a hoarse voice. He just smirked, as his eyes traveled down my body. The pressure of his hand tantalizingly moving down my thigh, made my eyes flutter and my head rollback.

"What do you want?" I found myself murmuring, as Tristan grabbed onto my backside and massaged his fingers into the skin. My breaths cut short and my heart sped up. I was almost afraid he would hear the loud beating sound that had consumed the silence.

"I like your room…" he replied, pulling back and letting me slide down the wall. My legs were pure jelly and without his body pressed against me, I couldn't stand up on my own. Tristan paced around a bit, looking through the bureau that stood near the bay window. His entire backside was brawny and powerful. I found myself biting my lip so hard, that blood trickled down the corner of my mouth.

"My bedroom's kind of similar to this, except the bed is smaller…but, I guess I'll survive." Tristan leered at me and then sat down on the corner of the bed. I shakily got up from the floor, using the wall as my support.

"How long have you known Jessica?" His jagged gaze shifted over to my direction and stopped cold and dead.

"Why is that of any concern?" he muttered. I shrugged my shoulders and snaked my way to the bed. Sitting next to him, I placed my hands in my lap and self-consciously stared down at my bear legs. All I had on was an overly large t-shirt and underwear. The thought made me blush profusely and want to scoot away from the handsome life form situated next to me.

"Did she use to go to school with you or something?" I tried to reiterate again. Tristan rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

"I've known Jessica ever since I can remember. We went to boarding school in London and roomed together during the first year of college…does that answer your question?" he spat in exasperation.

"Why are you raising your voice?" I asserted sharply, as I could feel the tension in the room begin to build.

"Because Rory…you act as if you have something to worry about!" Tristan thundered, as he summarily stood up. I followed suit and turned my body to face him. Half-clothed or not, I wasn't going to let this argument slide.

"It was just a question!"

"A question?" Tristan mocked, as he flung his arms out and shrugged his shoulders. I exhaled deeply and looked at him in utter aggravation.

"Do you have to be a jerk about this?" I hissed, as I took a few steps back and combed my fingers through my knotted hair. Tristan diverted his gaze up at the ceiling and shook his head.

"Admit it…you're jealous?" he stated bluntly. My eyes widened and my mouth fell agape, as I stepped forward and lightly hit him across the chest.

"Oh, get over yourself!" I shouted in anger. Tristan only bit his lip and let out a small, disconcerted chuckle. I knew I was working on his nerves too.

"Look, I don't want to spend my one and only vacation out of the year fighting over Jessica, alright?" He took one big long breath and crossed his arms about his chest.

"We dated a lifetime ago, if that's what you wanted to hear. It meant absolutely nothing and you're crazy, if you think I still have feelings for that girl!" he yelled, as his cheeks began to turn crimson.

"Oh, I'm crazy now—"

"RORY!"—Tristan cut in—"You're not listening to me…we're just friends…stop being so paranoid." With that, he turned around and walked out of the room. From down the hall, I could hear him shout:

"Be ready by eleven…that's when we're head' in out…" My hands shot to my hips, as I let out a sigh. Thoughts jumbled into my mind at a million miles an hour and steam seemed to be spouting from my head. This was going to be interesting…

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Tristan and I piled into one of Alex's many extravagant vehicles and didn't say a word to one another. I was still angry about how Tristan reacted to my questions. Yes, I might have appeared to be a little paranoid, but I wasn't jealous. _Or was I?_ I thought to myself.

Alex had business meetings all day long and Bianca had to take Vincenzo to a friend's birthday party. What surprised me the most was when Jessica announced that she'd rather stay behind because of a "mysterious" illness she had developed. I wasn't at all disappointed upon hearing this though.

We drove for a while through some narrow streets that led into the city. Tristan finally decided to park the car on the side of the road, so that we could explore for awhile. We walked past small shops and dozens of vendors trying to sell postcards and key chains. I browsed around, picking up various objects and observing paintings.

Music was heard near one of the parks that we came across. An older gentleman with salt-and-pepper-colored hair came out of nowhere and grabbed me by the hand, spinning me into his arms. This act not only frightened me, but caught me off guard.

"Lei vuole ballare?" he inquired in a jolly voice. I shook my head, not comprehending what he was asking, as Tristan came to my side.

"Buon giorno… Che succede?" Tristan questioned apprehensively. I tried to back away from the man, but he grabbed my other hand and danced around in a circle with me.

"Gli ho chiesto di ballare!" the man roared, as he dipped my head back.

"What did he say?" I quibbled, as the old man twirled me about.

"He's asking if you want to dance" Tristan remarked, as he covered his mouth with his hand and smirked. I finally managed to free myself from the man and stumbled backwards, latching onto Tristan.

"What is he talking about?" I asked distrustfully, as I tightened my grip around Tristan's arm and buried myself into him. The old man walked up to me and motioned for me to follow him.

"No, no…I don't speak Italian…" I protested, as the man tried to persuade me to come with him.

"Tristan…tell him that I don't want to dance" I implored, shaking my head at the man. Tristan placed his hands inside his pockets and stepped forward. Then, he began a conversation with the guy, which ended with us following him anyways. We walked towards the center of park, where a music festival was taking place. All sorts of people came alive through their movements. I couldn't help, but smile at how much their dancing reminded me of making love. Just by the way the male would run his face down the woman's chest and seductively grip onto her when she twisted, made my heart leap.

"Do you'a dance?" the old man questioned in broken English. I didn't know how to respond and immediately felt uncomfortable.

"I…we really should get going—" I began, but the old man took my hand in his and led me through the crowd of people. Tristan slowly vanished, as I was pushed forwards toward a man in his early twenties. He was obviously Italian with dark brown eyes and short, wavy brown hair. I frowned nervously, as the old man motioned for me to step closer to the guy.

"You'a dance" he stated, using his hand gestures as a way to communicate. The young Italian looked down at me and smiled, as he positioned his hands in a dancing stance.

"No…I really should get going" I tried again, but the young man put his hand about my waist and started moving.

"It's easy…" he shouted over the loud music playing "Just move your hips from side to side and you'a should get the hang of it." When the man spoke, I could hardly understand the words because of his thick Italian accent. I moved my left foot forward and slid to the right with my right foot.

"That's it!" he bellowed happily, as I peered up at him and smiled. He had a very charming face. Stubble lined his chin and a beauty mark rested at the corner of his mouth. All of a sudden, we stopped moving amidst all the commotion around us.

"I am'a Dante…what is your'a name?" He leaned his face close to mine, intent on hearing every word that seeped from my mouth.

"Rory Gilmore" I announced loudly, shaking his extended hand. The center of his palm was smooth, but his fingers were rough. I assumed the texture was caused by manual labor of some sort.

"That man over there…" he yelled pointing to the old man who had led me through the crowd "…is my father." I nodded my head and flashed him a quick smile.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you, but I really must go." I turned to leave, but was stopped by a warm hand on my arm.

"You know, you're a pretty good dancer" he shouted, licking his lips. I shook my head and looked down at my khaki pants.

"I was terrible…" I muttered, diverting my gaze from his. Dante only laughed, as he took my hand in his. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed my flesh ever so gently.

"It was an honor to dance with you, Signora." I smiled one more time and gave a little curtsey. My cheeks were turning bright red and my temperature went up a whole fifteen degrees.

"Until next time…" he hollered, as I made my way through the crowds of people. I looked back to wave goodbye, but Dante was nowhere to be found. My heart sunk a little and my smile began to fade. When I turned back around, Tristan was standing there.

"Hey, I was looking all over for you!" he yelled, pulling me in towards him.

"I was worried that something had happened to you…" His voice trailed off, as I looked behind me one final time. The only thing I saw were people dancing on the benches and the steps.

"I'm kind of tired. Can we go home?" I asked in a small voice. Tristan nodded his head, as he brought his arm around me.

"You okay?" he murmured in my ear, as he kissed the side of my head. I felt disoriented after the encounter with the young Italian I had just met; and that took my attention away from everything else going on around me.

"Rory…" Tristan echoed, as he stopped me once we reached the street.

"Is something wrong?" I kept on looking around me; searching for that familiar face.

"Yah…I'm fine…" I muttered, still a little distracted. Tristan grabbed both sides of my face with his hands and passionately kissed me. His soft lips crashed against mine, detaching and reattaching again. To torment me, Tristan nipped at my bottom lip and breathed in deeply. Now, my focus was all on him.

"Better?" he mumbled, pushing my body into him.

"Better" I answered, kissing him gently on the lips. My hands snaked down his back and rested on his sides.

"So, where'd you go all that time? That guy just kind of led you through the crowd and that was it." I rolled my head back and then, rested it on his chest.

"Can we just not talk about this right now? I'm really tired" I moaned in a whiny voice. Tristan ran his fingers through my hair and placed his chin on top of my head.

"Let's go then…" he asserted faintly. With that, he took my hand in his and led me down the street; my head rested against his chest the entire time.

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_Hey Guys: Hopefully you liked the chapter:) If so, Review! The Italian guy named Dante will most certainly play a key part in the up coming chapters, just to let you know. Oh and something is going to happen to Tristan. I'll update when I can. TTYL_

_Brittany _


	22. Say 'I love you'

Things were certainly heating up quickly between Tristan and me. I found myself thinking about him nonstop, every minute of the day. The sound of his voice made me anxious and childish. I couldn't help, but giggle when he tried to be serious or have a normal conversation with me. The only thing I wanted was his body and his lips on mine.

"So, did you guys enjoy what Rome has to offer?" Alex called from inside his study. Tristan poked his head out of the living room and shouted back to him:

"Yah…loads of fun. We robbed a bank, stole a car…you know, the usual." I began to giggle loudly, as Tristan attempted to stifle my laugh with his hand.

"Very funny, Tristan! I'm glad my son has such a role model to look up to" Alex echoed back, as he made his way down the hall. I leaned against the wall and smirked. Tristan peered once more into the foyer and dropped his hand from my mouth. I assumed that the coast was now clear.

"Do you always torture your brother like that?" I teased, pulling myself away from the wall and staggering over to the maroon colored couch. I plopped right down and fell against the pillow. An uncontrollable fit of laughter escaped me, as Tristan sauntered over to the couch as well and fell on his knees in front of me.

"I think you've had too much to drink…" he taunted, running his finger down the side of my face.

"No…you've had too much to drink" I shot back, lifting my upper-body up. There was no doubt that I had a few too many glasses of wine during dinner. My mind was intoxicated and I found myself doing things I normally wouldn't do. I tugged at Tristan's shirt and began to unbutton a few buttons.

"Hey…what are you doing?" Tristan jeered, as he took my hand in his. I peered into his dazed eyes and fell backwards against the cushion.

"Make love to me Tristan!" I yelled, as he scrambled up to his feet and pressed his hand against my mouth once more.

"Shhh….my brother will hear you!" he whispered sharply, as he let out an amused chuckle. I ran my fingers across his soft skin and removed his hand.

"I was serious…" I mumbled back. Tristan only shook his head, letting his blonde strands of hair scatter about.

"No, you're drunk—"

"I'm not drunk!" I protested in a whiny voice, as I lifted myself up from the couch. I staggered backwards only to be caught by Tristan's arms. His eyes glared roguishly into mine.

"Off to bed!" he roared, as he lifted me up and cradled me in his arms.

"Come with me…" I slurred, running my fingers under his opened shirt and along his bare chest. His blue eyes flashed down at mine, as a smile crept onto his face.

"If I did that, I don't think much sleeping would get done" he muttered with the underlying message intended.

"You're right…" I declared, shifting my body out of his arms. He slowly put me down, as I clung onto his shoulders for support.

"I am a young, independent woman, who has her whole life ahead of her!" I shouted confidently.

Stumbling up the spiral staircase, I continued to ramble on about everything and anything that came to mind. Tristan closely followed behind me, unsure of what I would do next.

"I mean, I'm desirable, right?" I questioned, as I stopped at the top of the stairs. Tristan stopped as well and raised his eyebrows.

"Yah…of course" he muttered uncomfortably. I turned around again and began to head down the narrow hall.

"I've slept with guys and I am mature and responsible enough to—" Tristan grabbed my arm, as I stumbled backwards.

"Thank you!" I remarked approvingly.

"Don't mention it…"

Tristan was now walking beside me, running his fingers through his hair. I kept on talking about senseless stuff that really didn't mean anything. Like a trooper, he listened through the whole speech without any complaints.

"So, why should I waste my time with the likes of you?" I announced, as I stopped myself and leaned against the stucco wall. Tristan let out a sigh and pressed his body against mine. A small giggle escaped my lips, as he surveyed everything below my neckline.

"Say something to me Tristan…" I whispered, leaning my head closer to his as if it was our little secret.

"What do you want me to say?" he grumbled in response. His fingers were now playing with the mesh material on my shirt. My breaths were steadier and less frantic, as my ranting and raving came to an end.

"Oh, I don't know…say something in Italian." He took a deep breath and hesitantly parted his soft lips to speak.

"I'm not sure what you mean…"

"Say 'I love you' in Italian…" I muttered, too intoxicated to understand the hard task I was instructing him to carry out. Tristan took a step back from me, as I ran my hands down my hips and dipped my head back. My goal was to act as seductive and sexy, as possible; but, it was obvious that I wasn't myself.

"You should really get some sleep—" Tristan began.

"Do you love me?" I cut in, as I placed my arms above my head and spread them out against the wall. Tristan tried his best to divert his attention from my actions, but the alcohol was taking over his inhibitions as well.

"I care about you…" he mumbled, nervously switching his weight from one leg to the other.

"But do you love me…I mean, you love me, don't you?" I asked, now in a concerned voice. He lifted up his head and ran his hand down the side of his face.

"Look, I'm tired…I don't know anymore" he groaned, trying to break himself free from the awkward conversation. My hands shot to the sides of my face, as I could feel myself burning up with anger. A sudden revelation overtook me and I lost all control over my actions.

"You mean, you don't love me!" I declared in a steadily increasing tone. Suddenly, I found myself taking a step away from the wall and widening my eyes in shock.

"It's not that…" Tristan whispered, looking about him nervously. I was now covering my entire face with my hands to keep myself from crying. An emotional breakdown was swiftly washing over me, as the alcohol set in.

"I care about you, I do" he assured, trying to quiet my faint sobs. I hit him against the chest, as he attempted to pull me into a hug.

"Then, why won't you say you love me? What? Do I not have big enough boobs and my name's not Jessica or something?!" I shrieked, now pacing around in small circles. I felt like a caged animal that was confined to a small area.

"Of course not…that's not the reason!" Tristan shot back, motioning for me to lower my voice with his hand.

"No, I am not going to be quiet! Do you have any idea what kind of emotional rollercoaster you put me on everyday…it's called stress, Tristan! STRESS!"

"Yes...I'm sure you're under lots of stress right now, but could you please—" I held up my hand in front of his face and glared at him.

"I'm done…that's it…goodbye!" I shouted, stumbling down the hall again. Tristan stood there in utter disbelief, as he ran after me.

"You're not yourself right now…just hold on a second" he called, grabbing my arm and spinning me around.

"Let go of me!" I squealed, ripping myself from his grasp. Tristan flung out his arms in surrender, as his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"What did I do? Tell me what I did?" he demanded, as I attempted to fix my spaghetti-strap that had gotten tangled up into some strange knot. I spent about a minute trying to untwist it, so that it would lay flat.

"Can you help me?" I finally importuned, extending my shoulder out to him. Tristan slapped his hands against his sides and let out a huff.

"Are you even listening to me?" he yelled in agitation.

"Yes! Yes…I am listening to you" I quietly asserted in a reassuring voice. Then, I placed my hand on his arm hotly. I was still attempting to undo the knot.

"Now, please will you help me with this…this" I couldn't get the words out, as my expression turned to frustration and sadness.

"I can't get it to lie flat!" I whined, letting out a sigh. My eyes were tearing up and my nose was beginning to run. Tristan couldn't help but laugh at my helpless state. The truth was that I was a terrible drunk. All my rational thoughts went out the window and every easy task all of a sudden became extremely difficult.

"Why are you laughing? Stop laughing!" I shouted at him, as I turned around to storm down the hall. But, Tristan stopped me and pulled me into him.

"It's okay…" he whispered softly, as he ran his hand down the side of my face.

"Just don't drink this much anymore, alright?" I nodded my head in a daze and rested my cheek against his chest.

"I'm sorry…I don't know what's wrong with me" I choked. I could feel Tristan's chest move up and down, as he gently chuckled. My hands gripped tighter around him and I closed my eyes. He was my safeguard, my protector and everything that I needed at the moment. But, something was still missing from it all. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

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Ten minutes later, my legs were wrapped around his waist, as he pushed my back against the door; trying to fling it open. I didn't really comprehend how I could be having a melt-down one moment and a lustful interaction the next, but I guess alcohol could twist anything around.

His lips were crashing against mine, as his tongue forced its way into my mouth unrelentingly. I let out a faint groan and gripped my arms tighter around his neck; not wanting to ever let him go. This form of desire was mutual and demanding. I knew that I had as much power over him, as he had over me; and that only enticed us more.

I ran my fingers through his blonde hair and pressed my lips harder against his. A strange, tingling feeling was developing in the pit of my stomach. Apparently, the sensation of my body straddled around him like that, caused me to push over the edge.

"I want you…" I found myself murmuring in his ear, as he blindly stumbled around the room. We were both too distracted by the feelings that we evoked in one another to take any real interest in external matters. With ever passionate kiss that was plunged at my lips, my fingers dug deeper into his flesh. Loud groans projected from his throat, as he pushed my body onto the bed. We were panting for air and couldn't get enough of one another. I found myself latching on to any part of him that I could reach, just to be closer to him.

"Rory…" he mumbled into my ear breathlessly. My body arched up, as he lifted his body on top of me. I couldn't help, but shift my hips to allow him more access to my center. He pressed firmly down against me and ripped the straps of my tank top off my shoulders. Then, he proceeded to fervently kiss me down my neck, nipping at my weak points. I was surprised by how well he knew the vulnerable areas of my body; the way he knew just how to touch me and kiss me, in order for a moan to escape my lips. My legs ached for more contact, as his magical hands found every romantic position.

He had both hands planted on either side of my head. His blue eyes penetrating into the mystery that laid below him. I stopped; my hips, my hands. The only thing moving was my chest, which rose up and down rapidly. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, as he dipped his head forward. The sensation of his supple lips leaving wet kisses down the curve of my neck, made my heart give way. I became shaky and unsure of what I wanted. He purposely created the feeling of anxiety and nervousness within me to torment my emotions. It was a game with him. And he was now taking hold of his victim.

"I have to tell you something…" he whispered, as he brought his face up again. My eyes looked up at him and immediately slanted. I was smiling and crying and screaming and yearning for something more all at the same time in my mind.

"Ti amo" he mouthed, bringing his lips down towards mine. It was so meaningful and innocence, that my heart broke. I shook my head, when he rubbed his nose against mine and lifted his head up to peer down at me.

"It means 'I love you'…"—Tristan began slowly—"…in Italian." My thoughts stopped, my heart leaped and every muscle in my body froze. I couldn't breathe. It was like the words took away my will to take another step in life. He was it; and I knew that.

"I love you too…" I found myself saying. He brushed my hair away from my face and examined me.

"Do you want to know, why I love you?" he asked playfully. I nodded my head and grinned; feeling my face turn beat red.

"I love you because of your eyes…" he murmured, kissing my eyelids tenderly.

"And I love your nose…" He leaned down and kissed my nose lightly. Then, he shifted his gaze down to my chest; but, I wasn't going to let him neglect the other more important things up top.

I lifted his chin up with my fingers and smiled.

"What else?" I whispered. He licked his lips and slid his hands down my waist. His knees were on either side of my legs. I felt my hips unintentionally grinded up against him. Tristan grinned, as his warm hands pressed down against them.

"Be patient…" he muttered teasingly. I blushed, trying to conceal my want and need to be filled by him.

"I love your lips…" he whispered again, kissing them affectionately. I tried to kiss them more forcefully, but his hands on my hips obligated me to settle with a little brush of his lips.

"And I love your mind…" He pushed up and kissed my forehead, making me go crazy. This was all moving too slow. I wanted him at that moment and I was going to get what I hungered for the most. Thinking back to Ross Gallagher and our little encounter in the bedroom, I snaked my hand down the side of his shirt. Then, I meandered my hand over my stomach and against his hardened bulge. Tugging gently, I could hear him falter and release a loud grunt.

"Rory…" he commanded hoarsely, trying to grab my hand. However, I was too determined to carry through. I gripped harder this time, making him gasp for air and murmur my name inside my ear. It turned me on in more ways than I could describe. He shifted his hands from my hips and pulled my face up to his. Within seconds, his lips attacked my mouth and sucked the air out of my lungs. I was panting for something and found myself losing all control. The sound of his quickened breaths made my heart skip a beat. When I thrusted up my hips this time, Tristan didn't object.

He hurriedly removed my tank top, revealing my black, lacy bra underneath. I smiled, as he groaned upon seeing my breasts. It made me feel proud and appreciated to hold something over Tristan that would make him melt like butter. He buried his face into my chest and ardently kissed around the lining of my bra. His fingers massaged gently against my sides next to my breasts and eventually, cupped them tenderly.

I soon realized that he was still fully clothed, so I tugged on his buttoned-down shirt. Noticing my sudden desire, Tristan lifted his upper-body up and sat, straddling me for a second. I shakily removed each button. Finally reaching the bottom and pulling it off. A burly, tanned chest revealed itself underneath. His body was absolutely perfect. I couldn't help but run my fingers down his well-developed abs and follow the thin line of hair that led to the top of his boxers.

His eyes looked down at me, sweltering with pure sex. All I could do was wait until he leaned down and kissed me. Then, it would be all over. I wanted him inside of me so badly, it ached. But, I remained calm. My chest rose and fell with my deep breaths. Tristan just sat there straddling me for a while; his eyes watching my face for any sign of hesitation or decline. My eyes moved down to the thin silver chain that hung around his neck. Two tags dangled against his stomach and jingled faintly with each breath that he took. Seeing where my gaze was, he lifted the chain over his head and suspended them over my face.

"I want you to have these…" he said in a low whisper. I looked up at the tags and then, at the tender expression on his face and shook my head.

"I can't Tristan…there too special—"

"Take them" he cut in, as he lifted my head with his hand and slid them over. The warm metal grazed my skin and made me feel like I was carrying a part of him on my body.

"Thank you…" I mumbled, as I stroked my hand down his chest. The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing against mine and my pants were slipping down my legs. The rest was lost in utter darkness, as I blacked out from intoxication.

--------------------------------------------

The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache. A bright light poured in through the window and forced my eyelids to reluctantly lift open. I couldn't remember anything really from the night before. Bits and pieces came back to me. I remembered Tristan kissing me and the way I felt inside, but nothing more beyond that.

Turning over and extending my hand, I reached out to feel an empty bed beside me. Sheets were scattered about this way and that. Pillows lay on the tile floor and my clothes were thrown over onto the bureau. I tried to feel along my thighs to detect any soreness or numbness, but there was none.

_Did I sleep with him?_ I questioned myself, trying to rack my brain; but nothing transpired. It was like a wall blocked out any memory of the events that took place the night before. I slowly made my way off the bed and stumbled across the room. As I passed a mirror that hung on the wall, I saw my reflection looking back at me. I was wearing Tristan's boxers and my black bra. My hair was ruffled and messy and my mascara was smeared down my cheeks. Examining closer, I noticed small bite marks down the side of my neck. A flash back immediately hit me like a ton of bricks:

_His lips were caressing the soft layer of skin down the curve of my neck. I could feel my thighs pulsating and my heart pumping with adrenaline. Then, he nipped at my sensitive areas, making me moan his name aloud._

The flash back ended and I found myself still standing in front of the mirror opposite of me. I brought my fingers to my lips and barely brushed them. _What happened last night?_ I asked myself in my head again. Taking my time, I threw a shirt that lay on the floor, over my head and staggered out of the bedroom. I made it as far as the hall before another flash back crept upon me.

_His hoarse whisper intoned my name in my ear. I let out a moan, as my leg muscles tensed and my body arched. His breath left hot masses of air in its wake and burned the surface of my skin. I moaned loudly, only to be muffled by his lips pressed firmly against mine. _

The flash back ended once more. I was leaning against the wall, struggling to grip my fingers into its smooth texture. My legs felt weak and my vision blurry. I continued to make my way down the hall and eventually, descended the steps.

Voices were heard from inside the kitchen, as I stumbled to the entrance way. Bianca was standing next to the chef and in the corner of the room sat Tristan. I swallowed with difficulty, as I entered the spacious room. His eyes immediately shot up to my disoriented ones. My breath cut short in my throat and my heart stopped beating for a brief moment.

"Good morning!" Bianca announced, as she ran up to me and kissed both sides of my face.

"How did you'a sleep last night?" I didn't respond at first and diverted my gaze back over to Tristan. He was currently smirking.

"Just fine…" I mumbled, not dropping my gaze from him. Bianca nodded her head and smiled. A little boy came out of nowhere and bumped right into me.

"Spiacente!" the boy cried in the form of an apology. I flashed him a small smile and crossed my arms about my chest, as Vincenzo ran over to his mother.

"Mama, Mama!" he shouted in excitement, trying to get her undivided attention. I took this as an opportunity to drag Tristan away and talk with him privately.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked in a small voice, as Tristan's gaze switched from his boisterous nephew to me.

"Yah…sure" he answered in a low voice. He followed me out of the kitchen and down the hall into the living room. I turned around abruptly, as I placed my hands on my hips.

"There's this wall…" I began in an emotional voice, as I ran the back of my hand across my mouth. Tristan immediately scrunched his forehead and furrowed his brow.

"Are you alright?" he inquired soothingly. I shook my head, as I dropped my hand and let it limply fall against my side.

"What happened last night?" I choked. My throat began to seize shut in anticipation. Tristan's face turned to an expression of confusion and then, of surprise.

"You mean, you don't remember?" he injected. I ran my fingers through my messy hair and let out a sigh.

"No…I remember us fighting and kissing…" My voice dropped lower, as I shifted my gaze to the ground. I couldn't face his daunting eyes at the moment. Tristan let out a quick snigger and shook his head.

"Well…let's just say, you like it on top" he teased in an extremely low voice. I could feel my breath quicken, as I staggered backwards slightly.

"You mean, we—" I looked up to see Tristan's eyes closed. He nodded his head forward and grinned a little. My stomach tossed and turned with anxiety. _This could not be happening…what did I do? _


	23. Comfort

I was confused and scared…and in love; so much love. Sometimes, flashbacks of what happened the night before would creep upon me, but they became rarer as the day went on.

I was standing underneath the shower head, letting the hot water wash over me. Droplets fell, cascading over my head and down my naked body. Steam choked my thoughts and my breath quickened with each mental image that passed through my mind. It was always of Tristan staring down at me; of his eyes, his body and the sensations surging through mine. After a while, the feeling became too much to bear and I stuck my head underneath the waterfall of boiling water; not allowing myself to breathe or think. It wasn't that I didn't want to sleep with Tristan or even that I didn't love him. The main issue I had with the entire situation was the fact that it happened while I was drunk. Oh, and another thing, I couldn't remember hardly any of it.

I found myself covering my face with my hands. There wasn't anyone laughing at me or even staring at me, but I felt embarrassed. I felt sick with emotions and desire. Tristan made me feel different. The feeling started from my heart and ended with my soul. Whatever happened that night had created an unbreakable attachment between us. His tags that I now wore around my neck, reminded me of how much I truly needed him; not just mentally, but physically.

_What are you doing? _I thought to myself. _Am I moving too fast? Does he truly love me? _The sickening feeling washed over me again. I sat down on the tub's cold surface, as the water flowed down my back. My eyes shut tightly and my chest heaved forward with each breath. _You love him, don't you? Say it. You know you do. Say it!_ My conscience was now taking control of my mind, arousing a fear and thirst for my deep hidden feelings. _You love how he makes you feel and the way he touches you…say it! YOU LOVE HIM…_I found myself mumbling 'shut up,' as the voice inside my head faded. My heart sunk and a small tear rolled down my cheek.

"I do love him…" I whispered aloud. My hands shook, as I wrapped my arms around my knees. What was he doing to me? Tristan was turning my heart and my mind into mush. I felt like my independence went down the drain and every thought was consumed by him. He was my air and something more. We had shared a moment that no one could erase. The sensations that pulsated through my body while he was on top of me, made me feel like I was the most wanted woman in the world. But, there was something wrong with this picture. I felt like I was centering my life completely on him, when in actuality, I didn't know if he did the same. Was I his world or was last night just some one-night stand?

I turned the knob on the wall and shut off the water. Immediately, cold air rushed in through the cracks in the glass shower door.

----------------------------------------------------

"So, you're going to club Vista tonight, right?" I heard Jessica's voice call. Tristan nodded his head and yelled back a 'yes' in response.

"You're going too, right?" I looked up from the newspaper and blinked my eyes once or twice. His gaze made my legs weak. He had no idea what kind of control he had over me.

"Yah…I guess. Are Alex and Bianca coming?" I asked in a shaky voice. Tristan scratched his head and yawned, stretching back in his chair.

"Well, that's what I've been trying to get them to do…but, with Vincenzo and no nanny tonight, I'm not so sure."

"Oh…" I squeaked unintentionally. My eyes glided back to the article in front of me, as I tucked my hands in my lap. I wasn't sure whether or not I should discuss what happened last night because I was afraid of how he would react to it all. The whole thing made me paranoid and unstable. _He loves me, right?_ I questioned myself, thinking back over the flashback that had occurred in the shower. I found it difficult to concentrate on the words in front of me. His body was seated so close too mine and still so far away. His mind and his thoughts were even a puzzle to me.

"Tristan…" I began, not looking up. I heard him set down his coffee mug on top of the table.

"Yah?"

My face froze for a second, as I tried to conjure up the appropriate words to address the difficult topic. I sighed, running my fingers across the table's smooth surface and reaching for his warm hands. When I found them, I looked up to see his blue eyes. They were expressionless. _You have no idea what's going on, do you?_ I said to him in my mind.

"Do you feel like this is weird?" I asked motioning between the two of us.

"What do you mean?" he began slowly, taking a swig from his mug.

"I mean, after everything that's happened…you know, last night." I tried to be as clear as possible without actually saying the word. Tristan laughed, as he covered his mouth, trying to hold the liquid inside.

"Why would it be weird?" he choked, attempting to be as lighthearted as possible given the seriousness of the conversation. I suddenly got fed up with beating around the bush and decided to just say it like it was.

"We had sex Tristan and you're not even going to acknowledge the fact that something is now different between us?" I snapped in a whisper. He shook his head and let go of my hands.

"Why does everything all of a sudden have to be different Rory? Yes, we slept together. Big deal! And by the way, it wasn't purely sex—"

"Then, what would you call it?" I cut in harshly. Tristan let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his blonde hair, spiking it a little.

"A mixture of love making as well…" his voice trailed off, as he smirked. I couldn't help, but feel my cheeks reddening.

"I don't even remember half of it…" I mumbled, covering my eyes with one hand and clinging on to the chain around my neck with the other.

"We were both drunk" he stated flatly. I looked up and opened my mouth, but no words came out. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. This was more difficult that I thought it was going to be.

"Tell me something about yourself?" I began quietly. Tristan rested his chin on top of his propped up hand and gazed down at his coffee mug. He was silent. I felt my heart begin to beat faster with every passing moment.

"You know…when my mom died, I thought I was the only person in the world who had terrible things happen to them" I whispered in a teary voice. My throat was seizing shut, as I was overcome with emotions.

"And I hated seeing other kids with their moms. They were always so happy and I wanted to be those girls. I wanted a mother to tuck me in at night and read me stories…" My voice drifted off, as my eyes fluttered. A tear rolled down my cheek. I could feel Tristan's eyes just staring at me; silent and unresponsive.

"Then, one Mother's day at school, my teacher made us make cards…and I sat there the entire time." I let out an angry chuckle and took in a deep breath.

"I didn't move or participate because I thought, what's the point…you know? And the teacher came over to me, asking me what was wrong…and I started to get so mad!" The tone of my voice rose, as hot tears now streamed down my face.

"And she kept on pestering me and pestering, and I got up…and I ran." My voice dropped, as I raised my eyebrows and shook my head.

"I had never run so fast in my life. I was just crying and yelling…" I stopped and gulped loudly. Taking the sleeve of my shirt, I rubbed the tears off of my cheeks. I was quiet, trying to maintain a normal composure.

"And I hated the world and I hated God…"—I whispered loudly—"and I hated myself…" I let out a small sob and tossed my gaze down towards the floor.

"And you want to know what's funny?" I asked rhetorically, not expecting Tristan to respond.

"She was one of the most humorous and caring people you'd ever meet…and her life was taken away." The statement sent a chill through the air and caused a whimper to escape my lips.

"Her life…her life…" I found myself muttering, as more tears streamed down my face. I shut my eyes and felt my heart break in utter sorrow. The truth was that I loved my mother so much. She was the one person that I would give my life for, just to spend one more minute with. I could hear the chair opposite of me slide across the floor, as two arms wrapped tightly around me.

"It's alright…" Tristan murmured in my ear, as he ran his fingers down my hair. I choked and let out a soft sob, gripping onto his shirt.

"Why…why?" I muttered breathlessly.

Tristan just stroked my hair and kissed my head gently.

"Sometimes, things happen for a reason. And no one knows why it happens or for what purposes, but we just have to believe that it occurred for good reasons. You have to have faith Rory, that your mother's life was taken because something better and greater was in store for her…" he choked. I dug my fingernails into his back and buried my head in the crook of his neck. His left-over ruminants of cologne filled my nose, as I clung to him with my body and soul.

"The tragedies that happen in life only make us stronger…you are that stronger person Rory. And your mother is looking down on you right now. And do you know what she's thinking?" I shook my head, not detaching myself from him.

"She's thinking, 'that's my daughter…and I am so proud of her'" he whispered in a strong and bold voice. I could feel his heart beating against my chest, as I sighed.

"Thank you…" I mumbled so faintly, that I could barely hear myself say the words. He held me there for a while, as I wept in his arms. It was a moment, I would never forget.


	24. One Wild Night at Club Vista

I was getting ready for going out that night to a new nightclub that had just opened called Club Vista. Since I didn't have any cute dresses with me, I went to Bianca for help. I knew Jessica was already an eliminated option, since she was such a snob to begin with and would probably laugh in my face.

When we finally came down to it, Bianca picked out a black halter-top dress that came up way too high on my thighs. I felt self-conscious and exposed, but I didn't want to badger her anymore than I had already. So I settled on what every girl calls 'the little black dress.' I matched it with a pair of sparkly, dangling black earrings. My shoes were black stilettos from Prada, which Bianca was more than happy to loan me.

Looking in the mirror, I blushed profusely. Standing there was a woman with a form-fitting dress on and high stiletto heels. I was loving the shoes because they elongated my legs and made me look ten times thinner. My long, chestnut-colored hair was curled and combed through with a light glitter gel. My make-up was mixed with a pale pink lip and smoky eye shadow. I was the complete package. Grabbing my silk black handbag, I took one more look in the mirror before heading out of the bedroom.

I could hear voices down in the living room, as I descended the wide steps. My heart beat faster and my breathing quickened with every inch closer that I became. Finally, I reached the bottom steps and saw Jessica, Alex, and Tristan all sitting in different positions throughout the room. Jessica was wearing a mint green strapless dress with pretty diamond studs; a very elegant and safe choice in my mind. Alex was wearing the usual business attire, which immediately made me assume that he was staying in for the night. Then, it was Tristan's turn. My feet stopped firmly on the marble floor, as I gazed upon him. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved buttoned-down shirt and a black blazer over top. His collar was popped and a few buttons were left open, revealing his muscular chest underneath. A silver cross hung from his neck and two silver rings were on his thumbs. Tristan's hair was gelled in a messy fashion, with various blonde-colored strands ruffled about. My mouth fell agape, as I examined the rest of his body. From his dress slacks to his unshaven stubble, he was drop dead gorgeous. I felt myself take a few steps back, as my legs melted before me; but it was too late. Tristan had spotted me.

His eyes rose from the floor and slowly made their way up to mine. He studied every inch of my body before standing up. I was caught by his intense gaze. _Oh, what did I ever do to deserve you?_ I thought to myself, as I bit my lip. His expression remained nonchalant, as everyone looked up to gaze at me as well. Jessica just sneered in jealousy and Alex smirked. It was true; I was sultry and sexy.

"Hey…" Tristan remarked in a low voice, as his eyes gave me another once-over. I watched, as he licked and bit his lip once his eyes reached my thighs. _You remember, don't you?_ I whispered seductively to him in my mind. Everything around us disappeared, as my focus centered entirely on the handsome man standing before me. He was hot and there was no doubt about it.

"Well, you guys should get going" Alex began in a soft voice.

"So, you're not coming, aye?" Jessica asked in a whiny voice. Alex shook his head and pointed to the little boy, who ran down the hall screaming.

"The nanny's off duty tonight, so someone has to watch the little guy." I smiled, now trying to avoid Tristan's daunting eyes completely. We all began to walk to the door. Tristan opened it up and let Jessica exit first. Then, it was my turn. I took one step out into the cold night air, only to be forcefully grabbed by the arm and swung against the door. Tristan crashed his lips against mine passionately and ran his hands up my bare legs. In sheer surprise, I groaned; trying to pull myself together. In a flash, he backed up and smirked wickedly.

"Ladies first…" he cooed in a deep voice. He extended his hand across his chest and bowed forward. _You are one of the most arrogant and egotistical guys I have ever met…_I thought to myself. I strutted right past him and made my way out towards the Lamborghini Alex had parked in the driveway. And off we went.

-------------------------------------------------------

It only took us about fifteen minutes to reach the club located right in the heart of the city. The lights flashing everywhere and masses of people lined up at the front entrance, made me feel anxious. We scrambled out of the car, as Tristan handed the man standing by the curb, the keys. I could tell by the way Tristan walked and acted, that he was in his element. He told me up on the hill at the relief camp once, that he had been to hundreds of clubs when he was a pro-footballer. The thought of almost every girl in New Castle wanting Tristan when he was famous made butterflies flutter in my stomach.

The large man at the front door was about to stop us from entering; but once he saw the card Tristan held up, the man let us in. A bodyguard accompanied us inside the premises, as loud music blared from all corners of the huge space. Flashing green, blue, and white lights swirled around, as women and men danced to whatever the DJ had in store for them. This was not my kind of scene at all. Tristan was walking up to random people and immediately hugging and kissing them on the cheek. Some of them were even women I had never seen before. I could feel my cheeks burning, as one blonde-haired bimbo played with the buttons on Tristan's shirt. Not letting any women come within a foot of my territory, I was immediately at his side.

"Hey Trist…who's your friend?" I asked in a sharp tone. The woman backed off instantly and smiled, before walking away.

"They're just people I use to know…hey, do you want a drink?" he asked, trying to avoid the subject. I nodded in affirmation, as he kissed me on the side of the cheek and casually walked over to the bar.

Roaming my eyes around, I spotted a familiar face that I had recently seen before. It was Dante's. His brown wavy hair was matted down against his sweaty forehead and his cheeks were bright red.

"Dante!" I called, trying to get his attention. He looked up from his dancing partner and immediately grinned.

"Hey'a…how are you?" he yelled back over the deafening music. He mumbled something to the girl with long black hair beside him. Then, he paced over to me and kissed both sides of my face. Grabbing my hands, Dante raised my arms above my head and made me do a twirl for him.

"Bella…" he mumbled, as a smirk formed on his face. I blushed because I actually understood the word. He had just called me beautiful.

"Do you'a want to dance?" he requested suddenly, as his eyes shot up from my body. I looked around me hesitantly before nodding my head in affirmation. _Tristan won't mind…_I thought to myself.

Dante led me out onto the dance floor, surrounded by dozens of people. The room was dark and lights flashed on and off continuously. He began to place his hands upon my waist and bring me in closer to him. This was not the type of dancing we had done in the park at the music festival. This was more seductive and intimate. His fingers were gliding down every inch of exposed skin, as he grinded against me in rhythm with the music. I remembered Janet once telling me that all men in Italy were not only expressive through the loudness of their voices, but through their hands.

I wrapped my arms about his neck and rolled downward, following his movements. We were in sync and engaged. Dante rested his hand on my backside, as I played with his hair on the back of his head.

All of a sudden out of nowhere, a fist flew against Dante's face, as he fell to the floor. I screamed in panic and staggered backwards, clasping my hand to my mouth. At that very moment, I froze. It was Tristan who had thrown the punch. He was now breathlessly leaning over Dante with pure anger on his face.

"Tristan, what the hell are you doing?!" I shrieked, as people fell back from the body on the floor. Dante quickly jumped to his feet and lunged head first into Tristan's stomach. Tristan fell backwards and slammed against the bar counter.

"Stop it! Both of you!" I screamed, as I ran over to the two men now trying to smash the other's face in. With little luck, I was thrown to the side and caught by Jessica.

"What's going on?" Jessica demanded, as I tried to collect myself. Tristan continued to swing at Dante, as he staggered backwards to protect himself. Finally grabbing a vodka bottle, he hit Tristan smack dab against the head. Tristan staggered backwards slightly, as a bodyguard caught him before he fell.

"You two, break it up!" he roared, trying to get Tristan back on his feet again. Dante stood there with a half-broken bottle in his hand, panting for air. I dashed over to Tristan's side, as I gazed down at the huge gash on the side of his forehead.

"Oh my God…" I mumbled in horror. Extending my arm out, I tried to lift him up and help him walk out of the club. Jessica surprisingly ran to assist me in the task, as confused individuals gawked at us the entire way out.

"What were you thinking?" I inquired in a harsh tone. His head rolled back, as blood streamed down the side of his face.

"We have to get him to a hospital" I declared in panic. Tristan began to mumble incoherent phrases. His eyes were dazed and his expression was blank.

"No…I think the best thing we can do right now is take him home" Jessica replied firmly. I wasn't about to argue with her, as we dragged Tristan out onto the sidewalk. He was bleeding profusely from his head and no longer responded when we asked him questions anymore. Jessica went to go and track down our car, as I stood there with him leaning against my body. His head was slumped over on my shoulder.

"It's going to be alright…" I murmured to him softly. Finally, Jessica drove up to the entrance and honked the horn, motioning for us to get in. I helped Tristan stumble to the car door, as he opened it and collapsed on the backseat.

"Jessica, what if this is serious?" I harked in a concerned voice. She only glared at me from the driver's seat, as she barked at me to get in. I slid in the backseat next to him, careful not to disturb him. Then, like a speed demon, Jessica sped down the narrow street in a flash.

The whole time, I kept stroking his hair and whispering comforting words in his ear, but he remained still. Blood trickled down from his face now and soaked through his white linen shirt.

"Come on Tristan…please don't do this to me" I pleaded in a whisper. We made it to the mansion in a record time of five minutes and came to a screeching halt at the front entrance. I pulled open the door and Jessica did the same, as she aided me in lifting Tristan's limp body out of the car. We used teamwork to carry him up the steps and through the doorway.

"Alex…Bianca!" I yelled, as a puzzled maid scurried out into the foyer. Alex came pacing in as well. Upon seeing Tristan's bloody forehead, he raced over to us and attempted to lift him up.

"How did this happen?" he barked in concern. I stepped aside, as Alex carried him to the couch in the living room.

"I was dancing with this guy and…Tristan came out of nowhere" I stammered in panic.

"So, this is your fault?!" Jessica cut in. I covered my face with my hands, as tears welled up in my eyes.

"No…that's not how it happened!" I began to yell in defense, as tears were now streaming down my face.

"Ladies…this is not the time to be bickering. Now Rory, I need you to get me gauze and the grafting tape underneath the cabinet in the bathroom. And Jessica, I need you to get a washcloth and a bowl of warm water pronto." We both flew to our assigned tasks at once. My mind was flooded with fragments of thoughts, as I hurriedly gathered all that I was instructed to get. Within seconds, I ran into the living room and shoved the items into Alex's face. Jessica was next to follow.

Tristan lay on the couch motionless. I didn't know whether to cry or scream. Everything in my mind went blank, as Alex carefully rubbed the wet cloth across the gash on Tristan's head. With the feeling of contact, Tristan jolted forward and groaned in pain.

"It's alright…just lay back…you're okay" Alex muttered soothingly, as he gently pushed him back down against the pillow.

"I'm sorry…" I mumbled, falling to my knees next to the couch. Tristan half-opened his eyes, as he shook his head.

"Be still…" Alex ordered, now covering his wound with a strip of gauze.

"It's…my fault" Tristan croaked in a faint voice. I gazed at him, shaking my head frantically.

"I shouldn't have been dancing with that guy…I just—" Tristan held up his hand and motioned for me to stop talking. Then, he swallowed hard and licked his lips.

"I was the one who was jealous…"—he whispered weakly—"…I should of stopped, but the way…he was touching you…" His voice trailed off, as he closed his eyes. And then, he was motionless again.

"I think he's done for tonight" Alex declared, as he got up and grabbed a blanket from off the chair opposite of the couch. Wrapping it around Tristan's body securely, Alex leaned over and kissed his little brother on the forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Tristan…" he whispered. Getting up and turning around, Alex looked at me and Jessica.

"I suggest you girls go and get some sleep. We're going to have a lot of stuff to deal with tomorrow." I nodded my head and sighed, as I turned to leave. Jessica followed me. _What a night…_I thought to myself. I knew that Tristan's rage was caused by my actions and that made me feel slightly guilty. I loved Tristan and never wanted anything bad to ever happen to him. _Maybe some rest will do him some good._ I continued to reassure myself in my mind. _Some good, old-fashioned sleep…_

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_Hey guys: So I know I haven't updated in a while, but I hope you like this chapter. Always open to reviews, so share your comments:) _

_Much luv,_

_Brittany_


	25. Without a Trace

I woke up periodically throughout the night, tossing and turning under the cream stain sheets. I hadn't changed them since the night Tristan and I slept together. I guess, I enjoyed the smell of his cologne and the ruminants of his aftershave trapped within the fabric too much to get rid of them.

My mind kept on flashing back to the image of Tristan's glazed over eyes and bloody forehead; his messy blonde hair drenched in sweat and his strong chest moving up and down in rapid movements. I felt guilty for everything that had happened. If it wasn't for me, Tristan would have never gotten injured. _If only I hadn't danced with Dante…_I thought sleepily to myself. All the voices inside my head jumbled together at once causing me to go on overload.

Pulling myself out of bed, I stumbled groggily to the door. My feet drug across the tile floor, as I rubbed my hand against my puffy eyes. I was going to go and check on Tristan to see if he was okay. It felt like my responsibility to take care of him and make sure that he got whatever he needed. Descending the steps, I tried to carefully make my way through the darkness that consumed the mansion.

"Tristan…" I whispered quietly, as I blindly toddled into the living room. All the lights were off and the only visible glow was that of the moon hanging in the night sky.

"Tristan…are you okay?" I tried again gently; still no answer. I ran my fingers across the smooth walls in search of a light switch. When I finally found one, I flipped it up to find one of my worst nightmares. The couch lay vacant and the blanket used to securely wrap Tristan as he slept, lay sprawled out on the floor. He was nowhere in sight. Thinking that he might've gotten up to use the restroom or get something to eat, I quickly scouted the first-floor. But with each room, a deep hidden fear became to grip my chest. _Where could he be?_ I questioned myself, as I called his name in a low voice.

"Tristan…come on, this isn't funny" I declared precariously. My eyes frantically looked about the spacious room, but he wasn't there. Only bookshelves, couches, and coffee tables sat about. My heart beat quickened and my mind began to race. _What was he doing…where could he be?_ I clasped my hands to the sides of my flushed face, trying to calm the overwhelming emotions that consumed me.

My thoughts rummaged through possible plans of action, before they stopped at a mental picture of Alex. Running up the winding staircase, I recklessly darted towards Bianca and Alex's bedroom. I could now hear the pounding of my heart in my ears and the rush of adrenaline overtaking me.

"Alex…Bianca!" I shouted breathlessly, as I pounded on their door with my fist. Heavy footsteps were heard before the large oak door flew open.

"Rory…what is it?" Alex mumbled exhaustedly. His short brown hair was rumpled and fanned at the sides. Bloodshot eyes peered at me in puzzlement, as I shifted my weight uneasily from one leg to the other.

"I can't find Tristan…"—I announced in panic—"I went to go and check on him, but here's not in the living room or in any part of the house. I'm scared something might of happened to him—" Alex held up his hand and staggered forward slightly in a daze.

"Just hold on a second…I'm sure he's just using the restroom or something" he tried to reassure me; but, it wasn't enough. I shook my head uncontrollably and glanced down the hall.

"You don't get it…he's gone!" I reiterated again. Running my shaky fingers through my hair, I let out a sigh. Alex peered down at my body and then, diverted his gaze up at the ceiling.

"Here, just give me a second and I'll be right out, okay?" I nodded my head, glad that he was finally coming to look for himself. Alex closed the bedroom door shut, as I stumbled backwards against the adjacent wall. I licked my lips and wrapped my arms about my chest. _He couldn't have just run off…why is this happening?_ I questioned once more.

A few minutes later, Alex came out wearing blue sweat pants that surpassed his heels and a form-fitting, white t-shirt. I smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood, but I could already sense his frustration.

"I'm sorry to have woken you…" I began in a small voice. Alex just shrugged his shoulders and led the way down the narrow hall to the staircase.

"Watch your step" he warned in a groggy voice, as we descended the marble steps. The gleam of the glittering stone and the dimness of the foyer gave everything a very majestic, but eerie feel.

"Tristan..." Alex called, rubbing his half-opened eyes.

"Come on buddy, where are you?" he tried again. There was no answer. Footsteps were heard at the top of the stairs, as Jessica's body appeared next to the banister.

"What's going on?" she yawned. Alex shook his head, not really understanding the situation himself, as he continued to look for Tristan. Flipping on lights and opening up doors, we carefully searched about for the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, who had stolen my heart.

"See, here's not here!" I choked in trepidation. My eyes wondered about aimlessly seeking for some kind of clue or sign; but, there was nothing. It was like Tristan had vanished without a trace.

"Look, I want you to go and check out in the front yard; and Jessica, I want you to search around by the gardens. I'll go upstairs and see if he fell asleep in one of the guest bedrooms." With that, we each raced to our specified locations. I headed for the front door anticipating Tristan to be on the other side of it; but he wasn't. The cold night air chilled every bone in my body and caused my movements to be stiff and slow. I ambled down the driveway, faintly calling his name and straining to see through the darkness. My breaths became harder to come by, as I clutched my hand to my heart. Anxiety and overwhelming fear seized my body and forced me into a state of momentary shock.

"He's not in the gardens!" Jessica yelled over to me, as I staggered across the wet lawn.

"Keep looking!" I shouted back in irritation. _How could she be done so quickly? We have to find him!_ I pondered in my mind. Jessica flashed me a look of annoyance, as she turned around slowly and marched off.

"What a lazy bitch…" I mumbled to myself. Wrapping my arms about my chest, I bent down near the gate leading off of the property. Red speckles of blood seeped into the rough concrete, sticking out like a sore thumb. I brushed my fingers across the ground, picking up the residue of the dark liquid. _Is this Tristan's blood?_

I glanced around the premises, trying to make sense of it all. A thick forest of trees stood out in the distance and a long walking path stretched along side. There was no sign of life at all. Everything remained silent, except for the occasional rustling of the leaves and buzzing sounds from the crickets. Footsteps were heard behind me along the driveway, as I hastily turned around.

"Find anything?" Alex inquired earnestly. I gradually shook my head; the long chestnut strands flowing about in the wind. He let out a long sigh and ran his fingers through his short, brown hair.

"That's what I was afraid of…" he murmured.

"Except for these droplets of blood on the ground out here—" I began, but was suddenly cut off.

"What droplets of blood?" Alex injected, swiftly pacing over to my side and bending down to take a closer look. I pointed to the red spots sporadically sprayed about on the worn concrete. Alex brushed his fingers against the spots and brought them up to his face.

"He's been kidnapped" Alex declared firmly.

"Are you sure…" I queried erratically, as my mouth fell open. He nodded his and bit the inside of his cheek. Immediately, the color from his cheeks flushed.

"Our family holds a lot of money in banks all across the continent…if these people kidnap Tristan, they have a chance at hitting the jackpot." I shook my head and scrunched my face in confusion.

"But, why Tristan? Why not you or the vice president of your company?" I quibbled. Alex gazed down at the ground and slowly stood up. I did the same. We stood for a while in silence; not talking, just reflecting.

"I don't know if you know this, but Tristan wears two silver tags around his neck—" My hand immediately shot to my chest and felt around for the cool metal underneath my shirt, as Alex spoke.

"Engraved on the back of one of them is an account number. You see, when we were growing up, my father always wanted Tristan to become the CEO of the family business one day. I was never that good in school, so my father skipped over me and moved on to him…" Alex diverted his gaze to the ground, as the muscles around his eyes twitched. Something had bothered him deep inside, when he said that statement.

"But, when Tristan decided to pursue a professional soccer career instead, my father resorted to me again. One of the tags that he wears holds the key to the entire Dugrey Empire. Tristan merely wore it for show or for quick cash, if he ever ran short on money." I nodded my head in contemplation and ran the back of my hand across my mouth.

"Tristan always told me that he got them from joining New Castle United?" Alex suddenly looked up at me and stared for a couple of seconds.

"True…but, who would expect an account number to be engraved on the back of initiation tags for New Castle…not many people" Alex stated bluntly.

"My only question is why did they take Tristan? If he wore the tags, why didn't they just take the necklace and run?" I shut my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath. I knew the answer to his questions, but I wasn't about to throw them out to him. I felt guilty enough about last night.

"How much money can they steal with that account number?" I whispered in a low voice. Alex's hazel eyes shifted up towards the sky, as his lips mouthed calculations.

"Around 4 billion dollars…" My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his response.

"You mean to tell me, that Tristan has been carrying around the key to 4 billion dollars around his neck?" Alex nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nobody was supposed to find out." I couldn't believe it. My mind flashed back to the moment, when Tristan took off the tags that delicately dangled against his stomach and gave them to me. This act now seemed even more meaningful. I couldn't believe that he would trust me with such a precious item.

"We have to alert the police—" I began.

"You can't report a kidnapping until the person has been gone for a full 24 hours. It's the law here." I shook my head and rested my hands on my hips.

"So what, we're just going to sit here and wait for the kidnappers to get away with this?" I scoffed loudly. I could feel goosebumps sweep down my bare legs, as the cool wind blew.

"There's nothing we can do right now, Rory. All we can do is wait and see if the kidnappers call" Alex reasoned. He extended his arms out to me and pulled my shivering frame into a hug.

"It's going to be alright…we're going to get him back…" he consoled gently. I wrapped my arms tighter around his back and closed my eyes. _Maybe Alex is right…everything will work out alright. _

We walked across the lawn and back into the mansion once more. Alex's arm remained securely around my shoulders and my arms about his waist. He reminded me of Tristan through his expressions and his voice; but, he could never make up for the real Tristan, who I missed considerably at the moment. Jessica was standing in the foyer, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Jessica?" I barked, already pushed to the limits with her irresponsible behavior. She glanced at me and then, turned her body sardonically.

"So did you find him?" she asked sharply. Alex dropped his arms from around me and took a step forward.

"We think he's been kidnapped." With that, Jessica paced towards me and stopped inches away from my face.

"This is your entire fault!" she screeched in her annoying voice. Her eyes bulged and her lips pressed firmly together.

"Why are you accusing me?" I yelled back in her face, as I swung my hands out in disbelief. She crossed her arms about her large chest and sneered.

"If Tristan only would have seen what kind of stupid witch he brought home, then we wouldn't be in this situation right now. Do us all a favor and leave before you wreck someone else's life!" she spat. Anger that had bottled up inside of me for such a long time, exploded in one swift movement, as I slapped Jessica across the face.

"How dare you!" I screamed. Alex ran up behind me and twisted my arms behind my back.

"Rory, stop…she isn't worth it!" he yelled, as I struggled to free myself. All I wanted to do was teach her lesson that she'd never forget. Alex spun me around and tightly wrapped my body into his arms.

"Jessica, I think you've had your say…now, just go back to bed and stop starting stuff that you know you'll lose!" Alex barked gruffly. Jessica held her hand up to her reddened cheek in shock and marched up the stairs.

Alex gently ran his fingers through my messy hair and kissed the top of my head.

"Just ignore her, alright. You're the best thing that's happened to Tristan in a long time. Trust me" Alex assured. I could hint the sincerity in his voice and dug my fingers deeper into his back.

"Look, I'll wait up for a while and see if anyone calls. Meanwhile, you should get some rest…" I shook my head and peered up into his hazel eyes.

"I can't sleep right now" I croaked hoarsely. Alex nodded his head in affirmation and brought his hands up to the sides of my arms.

"I guess it's going to be a long night then. Care for some coffee?" At the sound of a word associated with caffeine, I bobbed my head up and down eagerly. We both headed past the living room and into the vast kitchen with its stainless steel appliances and granite countertops.


	26. Finding the Truth

The light was fading from the sky and escaping past millions of rooftops. I swirled my spoon inside my cup and watched the cream color turn a light brown and then a hazel.

"I called the police…they're on their way" Alex announced with a short nod. My eyes shifted upward towards his face and back down through the shadows.

"They have to find him" I whispered. My skin felt rubbery and soiled from all the tears that soaked through the porous casing. I was tired of crying; tired of waiting for something to happen.

A loud bell echoed throughout the house, sending the maid dashing through the room.

"Who could that be at this time of day?" Alex questioned himself. His eyes slanted, as his forehead creased at the center. I shook my head and placed my hands over my face.

"I should have never left him alone" I scorned in anger. My teeth gritted together and my eyes scrunched shut; not allowing the faintest bit of light to enter them.

"You have a visitor" a voice called in a thick Italian accent. I raised my head and dropped my hands away from my face.

"I do?" I questioned curiously. Rosetta nodded her head and pointed towards the foyer.

"He'a is in there" she informed me with a smile. I slowly got up from the chair and rested the silver spoon on top of the porcelain plate.

"Who's here?" I inquired as I passed Alex. He shrugged his shoulders and followed me out of the living room.

A figure stood near the front door with a bouquet of flowers hanging down at his side. From the back, I could make out a curly head of brown hair. The man turned and the eyes gave the mystery away.

"Dante…" I proclaimed in shock. Alex came up beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced" Alex began, as he suspiciously glanced over to Dante and back down at me.

"Alex, this is Dante…Dante, this is Alex—" I announced motioning between the two men.

"Yes, I know who he is" Dante declared suddenly. My eyebrows furrowed, but relaxed after a grin formulated on his lips.

"These are for you" he murmured, as he leaned forward and held out the beautiful arrangement. There were white orchids and red roses all bunched into one.

"What's this for?" I questioned as I bit my lip. Alex stood straight as a stick and tensed with every movement Dante made.

"It's to apologize for last night at the club. I didn't mean to hit him…you were there" he argued with an uneasy smile.

"I didn't mean any of it…"

I nodded my head and placed my hand over the area where the tags dangled under my shirt.

"Is he alright?" Dante asked with puppy-like eyes. I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

"I'm not sure…" I whispered. My fingers glided down my stomach and rested at my side.

"Well, I was hoping that I could maybe say a few words to him" Dante mumbled with the hope that I would catch on.

"You can't right now" Alex stated firmly. I peered up at Tristan's brother standing next to me and observed the veins popping out around his face. His cheeks were turning a dark red and his eyes, a misty black.

"Alex, shouldn't we tell—" I began, but was immediately cut off. Alex swung me around and scooted me towards the doorway.

"I don't trust him" he blurted hotly.

"Why not?" I questioned, as my hands slid up my sides and rested on my hips.

"Well, for one, how much do you know about this guy?" Alex asked in a very brusque tone. My mouth opened, but the words faltered.

"I…I don't know" I stammered. My eyes fluttered a bit as the room began to spin.

"Rory, we can't trust anyone at this point—"

The sound of his voice echoed in my ears. Black spot and flashes of light beamed this way and that.

"Wh..at?" I whispered in confusion, as I stumbled backwards.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alex inquired. His features softened and his tone became less harsh. My stomach churned and flipped like a stormy sea. The liquids splashed together and contracted within the walls of my intestines.

My hand immediately shot to my stomach and then leapt up to my mouth.

"Rory" Alex shouted, as I dashed out of the foyer and ran to the bathroom. Once reaching the cramped space, I clasped upon the floor and spewed my guts out into the toilet bowl. Once, twice, three times, the acidic fluid seeped out of my mouth. It burned the lining of my throat and caused my eyes to water.

"You okay in there?" Alex called on the other side of the door. I swept my hand across my lips and coughed uncontrollably.

"Yah" I croaked, as my hand rested on my stomach. The weirdest feeling kept penetrating through me. It came out of nowhere and hit me like a hurricane. Alex began to knock on the door, asking for entrance into the bathroom.

"Come in…" I shouted weakly. He slowly opened the door and gasped when his eyes fell upon me.

"You alright?" he asked once more in a concerned voice. I ran my fingers through my hair and took deep breaths. It all came in waves; powerful surges of sickness and nausea.

"I don't know…" I coughed. My head tilted forward and my eyes shut. I heard footsteps approaching me and felt two arms wrap around my body.

"Come on, I'm going to get Bianca" Alex informed me in a soft whisper. I clung onto his neck and wrapped my legs about his waist. Everything around me bounced up and down; pounding, thundering, and shaking.

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"Look, just try it alright. Better safe than sorry" Bianca announced as she handed me a pregnancy test. I peered up into her eyes and gulped loudly.

"I really think I'm fine" I began in protest.

"Try it" she reassured me once more. I licked my lips and stared down at the small white stick. _What's the harm in doing it…_

I got up from off the bed and sauntered over to the bathroom. Flipping on the light and shutting the door behind me, I gazed up at my reflection in the mirror. This was a defining moment in my life. I wasn't sure what I would do if it read positive.

A few minutes later, I came ambling out of the bathroom with a blank expression on my face.

"So, what does it say?" Bianca asked suddenly. I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and placed a hand over my stomach.

"I'm pregnant" I whispered in a shaky voice. Bianca gasped and began to laugh happily.

"Congratulations!" she yelled in excitement. I tilted my head to the side and felt my eyes tear up a little.

"What am I supposed to do?" I choked. My trembling hands wrapped around my body.

"It's a gift, Rory. A wonderful gift…" Bianca explained with a smile. I nodded my head and graciously accepted her open arms.

"It's going to be alright. I promise" she whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes and clung tighter.

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I began to descend the steps when I was met with Dante's eyes.

"You're still here?" I questioned in disbelief. He stood up from the small armchair and nodded his head.

"Alex told me that you weren't feeling too well. Just wanted to make sure you were okay…" he explained with a comforting smile. I bent my head and ran my hand down the side of my face.

"Never been better" I declared sarcastically. Dante smirked in comprehension and took a few steps toward the staircase.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked. I shook my head and continued to walk down the stairs.

"I think you should go…I'm fine. I promise…"I whispered reassuringly. He raised his eyebrows and eyed me up and down suspiciously.

"Are you sure?" he questioned again. I nodded my head and motioned towards the front door. He turned to leave, but stopped himself.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'm sorry about Tristan. That disappearance thing has got to be tough on you—"

"What disappearance thing?" I questioned quickly. Dante pointed at the windows where dozens of flashing lights were going off. _The police must have arrived while I was upstairs with Bianca. _

"Alex told me about it…I'm deeply sorry" he whispered. His face was full of regret. Immediately my eyes snapped open and my mind reeled back to the conversation with Alex. I could specifically remember him saying:

_"Rory, we can't trust anyone at this point—"_

And then, it hit me. Dante couldn't have found out from Alex because Alex would never have revealed that information.

"So, I should go" Dante began again, as he waved a short goodbye. My eyes shot up and froze in place.

"Dante" I called to stop him. He swung around and smiled.

"Yes, Rory" he answered in a thick Italian accent. My face remained still for a moment, as I tried to figure out what to do. The police were right outside. I could just go and tell them that Dante was involved with Tristan's disappearance; but what evidence did I have? None.

"I forgot to thank you for the flowers" I declared quickly shoving the thought out of my mind.

"You're welcome" he muttered, as he zipped up his jacket. I watched him walk out of the foyer and shut the front door behind him.

Within seconds my mind shot like a bullet through various plans of action. Running through the foyer and out into the kitchen, I grabbed a pair of keys from off the wall.

"Hey, where are you going?" Alex called as I stormed past his office.

"Can I borrow your Mercedes?" I asked in a rushed fashion. He swiveled around in his chair and gradually nodded his head. I ran out to the foyer and threw on my navy blue coat.

"But what for?" I could hear him shout down the hallway. It was too late. I was out the door and on a mission: to follow Dante and find out the truth.

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_Hey guys: Please review and tell me your thoughts about the chapter:) I'm not sure whether this is the right path to take the plot down. Did you like the added mystery or not like it??? REVIEW_

_Love,_

_Brittany_


	27. A Few Feet Behind a Red Volkswagen

A light drizzle fell across the window shield, as I drove down the highway. Rocks and dust kicked up against the tires and the sides of the car. I swerved off to the side slightly and attempted to slow my pace. It was important to keep a safe distance and to stay hidden.

Dante's red Volkswagen was only a few feet in front of my car. So far, we had made three lefts, two rights, and one U-turn. We were now driving down a deserted highway in the direction of a darkened sky.

Thoughts of what I would find at the end of this whole thing scared me tremendously. Flashes of Tristan's smiling face, of his eyes, of his hands on his hips as he stared out into the distance; it all came rushing through my mind. I didn't have a plan of what I would do once we stopped. My main ongoing thought was to continue following Dante and to not let him out of my sight.

The compact, red vehicle turned off the next exit that we reached and stopped at the light. I tried to keep my head tucked away and my eyes low. Ten seconds passed and then, twenty more…finally, the light turned green. I stepped on the pedal and twisted the steering wheel carefully. My eyes flashed to the right and landed on a sign that read:

_0.5 km—Tiber River_

Dante sped down the road like his life depended on it and veered off onto a dirt path. I slowed my pace even more and followed suit. Through the passenger side window, I could make out large oak trees, shrubbery, and a huge drop-off. Squinting even closer, the movement of rushing water came into view. _Where the heck are we?_ I questioned myself.

Suddenly, the red Volkswagen stopped in the middle of the path. I quickly pressed on the brakes and switched off my headlights. No one got out of the car for a long while and everything remained quiet.

Finally, Dante swung open the car door and heaved himself from off the seat. His figure appeared small and insignificant in the surrounding darkness. He was carrying some sort of package underneath his arm. I maneuvered my hand over to the unlock button and pulled back the door handle.

Immediately, the sound of crickets and the rush of water filled my ears. Dante paced down the path for a bit before changing his direction off into the ominous forest.

I wrapped my coat around my body and began to shiver as the cool breeze swept past me. All my senses were alert. At even the slightest unwarranted noise, I whipped my head around and widened my eyes to their fullest extent. A pause, a shuffle, snapping of twigs…silence.

My strides became longer and my pace, more swift. I could literally feel my heart thumping inside my chest. A slanted tree stood next to a vast array of ivy and bushes. I quickly darted past them and used any branch that I could to move through the thick vegetation. Moss hung down and on a few occasions, created sheets of white furry fleece that resembled phantoms.

Everything was dark and unknown. The leaves twisted and crackled underneath my feet. I stared down at my gray shoes and began to groan. Thick, saturated mud had allowed them to seep within the depths of the gooey concoction. It felt like I was standing in quicksand. I extended my hand out and latched on to the closest branch that I could find. Then, acquiring all of my strength, I lifted my foot up from under the sticky mess and continued to sludge my way to drier ground. It was a difficult process, but I managed to finally reach an old, abandoned farmhouse at a clearing.

Faint lights radiated from the windows and flickered on and off ever so often. With great caution, I jogged across the open field and made it all the way to the barn. Paint rotted off the wood of the structure and several holes told the story of a termite's feast.

Walking along side the outer wall, I examined the ground for any sign of blood that could lead me to Tristan's whereabouts. There was a rusty shovel that lay amongst the tall grass and a weathered glove right beside it. I continued to walk until I reached the end of the wall. Peering around the corner and onto the other side, I could make out a figure in the darkness. Immediately, I pulled back my body and placed my hand over my mouth. Even the slightest noise could ruin the entire plan.

After a couple seconds, I allowed my hand to fall limply at my side. Twisting my body against the wall, I poked my head around the corner and proceeded to follow the figure with my eyes.

The person was digging some sort of hole in the ground. Instantly, my face flushed as horrible thoughts streamed into my mind. _That hole is not for Tristan…it's okay._ I reassured myself. Pressing my lips together, I took one step out from behind the wall and began to tiptoe closer. My shoes quietly slid across the dirt as I maneuvered over to a bare patch only ten feet away.

My breaths became ragged and noisy. I tried calming myself by shutting my eyes and thinking of happy things, but that did no good.

My eyes examined the figure closer to ultimately discern that it was indeed Dante. His white short-sleeve shirt was smudged with clay and grass stains. I could literally see the sweat flowing down his arms and coating his curly, brown hair.

Dante continued to stab the shovel into the ground and heave the soil into a pile beside him. With each clash of metal against hard clay, my eyes twitched and my hands trembled. This process went on for about twenty minutes before he finally threw the shovel amongst the grass and proceeded to saunter away.

I took this opportunity to do a little exploring. Looking left and then right, I trotted back over to the barn doors and wrapped my fingers around the wooden boards. With one forceful pull, I managed to creak the doors open and slide my body inside.

The smell of horse manure and mold filled my nostrils causing me to gag. There was total darkness all around me, but I felt safer inside the barn than I did outside. I could make out stacks of hay inside the stalls and corn kennels on the floor. Brushing back my chestnut strands of hair, I wrapped my arms about my chest and walked aimlessly dead ahead. Nausea was washing over me once again and I often caught myself placing my hand over my mouth as a precautionary.

A loud groaning sound echoed off the tall ceiling and escaped through the cracks in the walls. I swung my body around and scanned the area. All my defenses were up and I was prepared for anything. A little bird flew up into the rafters and escaped through a small opening. _Calm down…it's alright…_

My heart began to beat faster by the second. I walked past two more stalls before I heard the noise once more. It sounded like a faint cry of agony. Adjusting my senses to fit my mysterious surroundings, I ambled past the last row of stalls and stopped upon a dark lump in the corner.

My blue eyes trailed the filthy wooden floor and keenly watched the figure. I could hear my heartbeat, the wind, the squawk of a bird, crickets…and then, another groan.

"Tristan!" I shouted, as I dove forward and skid across the floor on my knees. The figure didn't move, but laid there motionless for awhile. I ran my fingers down his side and up towards his head. Pure sweat and heat radiated off of him like a sauna. When I held my hand up to the dim light that flowed from the moon, I could make out droplets of blood.

"Tristan…Tristan" I repeated again in a whisper. His body rolled over for a moment, as a hand came out of nowhere and grasped my forearm. I squeaked a little in surprise and quickly placed my hand on top of his.

"I'm so sorry, Tristan…" I croaked, as tears began to flow down my cheeks. He shifted his body upwards and turned his head to look up at me. The whole side of his face was covered in dried blood. Dirt was caked all down his clothing and even collected under his fingernails. I tried to lift him up, but his weight was too much for me.

"Are you okay?" I asked, as I gazed down into his beautiful blue eyes. He made an attempt to move his lips, but faltered.

"It's okay…just rest" I murmured, as I leaned over and kissed his hand. Tristan closed his eyes and fell silent. My eyes shot up, as my mind reeled through possible strategies of getting Tristan safely out of this place. But with each idea, I felt more and more like this was an impossible task. There was no way that I could carry him a mile to the car and not risk the chance of getting caught.

I ran my hand down the side of my face and sighed. _What to do…what to do??_

All of a sudden, a loud clanking sound ricocheted through the barn. I quickly stood up and looked down at Tristan. I didn't know whether to leave him and hide or to stay with him and hope that it was just a bird. Finally, the sound of footsteps made the decision for me. I leaped up and slid behind a massive worktable. The steps inched closer and my heart raced faster.

And so, I waited.


	28. Everything Flips

The figure emerged through the shadows cast down by the moonlight. It was tall and thin; not Dante's stature at all. I leaned forward to catch a better glimpse, but stopped myself. _You can't risk getting caught, Rory. You're Tristan's only hope…_

The person picked Tristan up from underneath his arms and began to drag him across the rat-infested floor. My lips trembled and my heart pounded. Faster and faster the blood coursed through my veins causing me to feel anxious and apprehensive.

I watched Tristan's motionless body be lugged along like a rag doll through the barn. His head bobbed from side to side and his arms slid across the floor boards.

All of a sudden, the figure stopped in their tracks. Allowing Tristan's head to just fall against the floor, they turned and sauntered back in my direction. I tried my best to keep my body tucked behind the large worktable and out of sight.

My eyes followed the heavy boots and lanky legs over to the wooden post next to a tarnished wheel barrel. The figure took out a lighter and held up what appeared to be a cigarette to their lips. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for the figure to switch on the lighter. Right then, the flame glowed through the darkness and revealed my worst fear. Standing there was none other than Jessica, Tristan's supposed lifelong friend.

All I wanted to do at that moment was rip through the hay and the dirt, and murder her where she stood. _How could she be in on this??_ I thought to myself. Jessica took one long drag from her cigarette and crossed her arms about her large chest. Huge puffs of smoke rose up into the air and drifted off amongst the atmosphere.

The sound of more footsteps echoed through the barn. This time, the noise was heavier and louder.

"Dante…"—Jessica called in a seductive voice—"I've missed you all day." Dante materialized through the darkness and aggressively wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I've missed you too…" he murmured, as he hungrily kissed her on the lips. Then, he yanked back her head and proceeded to passionately tear at the side of her neck with his mouth.

"Hold your horses, we can do this later," she announced faintly. Dante pulled back a little and brushed away a strand of her black hair with his thumb.

"God, you're beautiful…" he whispered. Jessica only grinned and brought the cigarette up to her cherry lips.

"Did you deliver the flowers to that bitch, Rory?" she asked sharply. Dante nodded his head and stroked the exposed skin along her midriff.

"Yah, she actually thought that I was flirting with her—" he muttered jokingly. Jessica's eyes turned fiery, as she hit Dante against the chest.

"And you weren't, right?" she screeched in her annoying voice. Dante's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I wasn't what?" he inquired slowly.

"You didn't flirt with her, did you?" she snapped. A smirk formulated on Dante's lips as he dipped her backwards and planted a kiss on her chin.

"Even if I did, why'a would it matter? I bet she's not half as good in bed as you are," he murmured smoothly. Jessica flipped back her hair and detached herself from his grasp. Strolling over to one of the stalls, she inhaled the cigarette and stared down at her legs.

"You don't think she suspects anything, do you?" she asked suddenly. Dante put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

"Babe, you'a have nothing to worry about" he declared reassuringly. Jessica ran her fingers down the slant of her shoulder and shut her eyes.

"I want to get out of here, Dante. I want to take the money and split…" she said quickly. Dante could sense her panic and uncertainty about the whole thing. To solve this, he walked up behind her and draped his arms around her shoulders.

"All in good time. Just be patient…" he whispered in her ear. Jessica stared off into the distance and became emotionless for awhile. To comfort her, Dante began to leave gentle kisses down the curve of neck, as she continued to smoke away her cigarette.

"We should go…" she suggested finally. Dante let out a noisy sigh and grunted in agreement.

"Where do you want to put Tristan tonight?" he inquired with a slur of his words. Jessica tilted her head to the side and briefly glanced behind her.

"Let's just keep him in here for now. He won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

The sound of those words made me cringe to no end. _How could these people be so heartless and cruel?_

The two figures walked side-by-side to the front entrance and locked the latch on the door. I was left sitting in the darkness waiting, hoping, praying. My eyes shut for a moment and my mind drifted off to a far-off place. Blackness consumed everything and then…sleep overtook me.

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I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a sudden plan formulating in my head. It would be difficult to carry Tristan a mile and a half to the car and even more impossible to do it without getting caught. I realized all these things and decided that the best plan of action would be to leave Tristan here and go find help.

With that said and done, I made sure that Tristan was not in too much pain and proceeded to sneak out of the barn.

The sun blinded my eyes and disrupted my focus. I ran aimlessly through the long blades of grass and darted into the thick brush surrounding the forest. Branches and muddy earth were just a few of the obstacles that I had to overcome. My feet sunk down into the swampy water and my hands shot out to pull myself forward. I cut my fingers and my arms as I clung onto the sharp and prickly plants. The only thing driving me to continue was the mental picture of Tristan's face and the sickening feeling developing in my stomach. I had to do it. There was no other option.

The ground dried a bit and leveled off onto a grassy plain. Picking up speed, I jogged past hundreds of trees and tore my way through overgrown shrubs. Flecks of light danced in circles across the soil in front of me. My shadow jumped and leaped beside me.

Heart racing, lungs collapsing…my hand shot out to catch the branch in front of me. I paused to catch a breath.

Out of nowhere twigs snapped and a hand clutched my arm. My mouth widened to let out a scream, but the face and the eyes stopped me.

"Alex!" I yelled in relief, as I wrapped my arms about his neck. "You don't know how glad I am to see you…"

A huge smile stretched from ear to ear. I wiped off the sweat along my forehead with the back of my hand and peered up at him.

"How did you find me? Tristan's here…he's in trouble," I declared restlessly. Alex nodded his head and slipped his hands into his coat pockets.

"Is he injured?" he asked calmly. I bit my lip and glanced around.

"He lost a lot of blood…but, we have to go get help now" I injected behind trembling lips. Alex stared down at the ground and stood perfectly still. I made a move to run forward, but he didn't follow me.

"Come on! We have to go now!" I shouted in frustration. His hazel eyes shifted upwards, as they fixed on my face. A smirk wiped onto his lips and a low chuckle exuded from his throat.

"You don't get it, do you?" he inquired impishly. I scrunched my forehead in confusion and took a step forward.

"Alex, now is not the time to be playing games! We have to go get help!" I roared in anger. Alex licked his lips and gazed up at the sky.

"Beautiful day today…" he remarked. My blue eyes widened in disbelief, as I stepped forward and yanked him by the sleeve.

"What the hell is your problem? We have to—"

"No" he stated coldly, as he ripped his arm away from me. I stumbled back with shock and placed my hand on the tree trunk for balance.

"What do you mean 'No'?" I whispered faintly. He ran his fingers through his light brown hair and sighed. Something was formulating in his mind…I could tell.

"Can't you see? I'm behind this whole thing"—he said with a grin—"I'm the one who hired Dante to show up in the park during the dance festival and at the club a couple nights ago. I'm the one who bribed Jessica to come down to Rome at the same time as my brother and stir up trouble. I'm the one who had Tristan shipped out here and I'm the one who will be arranging for his death."

The words sent chills down my spine, as I stood motionless. I was too shocked and baffled to do anything. It didn't make any sense. Why would Alex want Tristan dead? What did Tristan ever do to upset Alex enough to this point of aggression?

Alex hummed a little to himself and took a deep breath.

"I've always loved this place. The trees, the flowers…" His voice trailed off, as he remained in thought.

"Why?" I asked suddenly. Tears were welling like buckets of water around my eyes.

"Why not?" Alex replied coolly. I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head.

"You want to know why I'm doing this?" Alex questioned lightly. I turned my head and didn't respond. A few moments of silence continued, as the wind blew through the trees. Moss swung side to side and eventually, cascaded down to the earth.

"About two years ago, a company called Zintex was creating a new drug, CCF. The side effects were unknown and the FDA refused to approve it. As a result, the CEO, Bob Dennsey, came to me…"

I looked up at Alex, who stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

"Bob wanted Dugrey Inc. to fund more research on the drug, CCF. In return, I would receive a huge paycheck. As you know though, I have no interest in money"—Alex laughed to himself—"I have plenty of it already."

I cringed at the sound of his amusement and stood further away from him.

"We collaborated for a long period of time before we came up with an idea. Why not test the drug on refugees and relief camp migrants in Africa. So, that's what we did. We sent thousands of cases of CCF shots in packages labeled as vaccinations. Meanwhile, we sent trained doctors and scientists to study the results."

"How could you?" I shrieked in disgust. Alex looked up in surprise.

"You don't understand…it was a medical breakthrough. Yes, so a few hundred died, but who cares?" he shouted back in a raspy voice. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Why'd you do it?" I screamed. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and rolled along my chin.

"Tristan found out about Zintex and the effects it had on his relief camp refugees. He threatened to expose the truth to the media and shut down the corporation for good. So, to prevent that, I asked Tristan to come up and visit me for a few days in Rome. He thought that it would be a good chance for a vacation and I thought it would be the perfect time to dispose of him—"

"But, he's your brother!" I shouted in anguish. Alex stood perfectly still and didn't respond.

"You don't know how many times my father kicked me to the curb and promised Tristan everything…the company, the money…everything."

"So, what? This is some kind of vendetta?" I yelled. Alex chuckled a little and nodded his head.

"I guess you could say that. With Tristan gone, my reputation would be spared and I'd never have to hear my father say how much better he is than me…" he asserted callously. I narrowed my eyes and pointed my finger at him.

"You're wrong! Even with Tristan gone, you'll never be your father's favorite. You're just an insecure, worthless bastard, who doesn't have the balls to—"

"SHUT UP!!" Alex roared, as he smacked me across the face. I staggered back a bit and placed my hand along the sore part of my cheek.

"You don't know what you're saying! Who gives a damn what you think, anyways?" he screamed in fury. I took a few more steps away from him and turned to run, but he engulfed me with his arms.

"Where do you think you're going?" he hissed in my ear. I fought with all my might to escape from him, but he kept a tight hold on my arms and waist.

"Let me ask you one thing…"—I declared, slightly out of breath—"Why keep Tristan alive for so long? Why not just kill him?"

Alex ran his fingers down my sides and sighed into my ear.

"Because there was one problem we didn't expect…………YOU…" he barked gruffly. "I used Tristan as bait to lure you here. Now, with that out of the way, I can just kill you both."

I froze in fear and let out a shrill scream.

"Shut up!" he bellowed, as he wrapped his arms tighter around me. "There is no way for you to escape." Alex picked me up with little effort and threw me over the side of his shoulder. I tried punching and kicking; anything to get free, but it was not use. Life as I knew was taking a turn for the worst.

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_Hey guys,_

_Sorry it took me sooooo long to update. Hopefully, you enjoyed the sudden twist in events:) Trust me, there are still a few unexpected things to come, so be ready for that.. I always appreciate reviews!!! They're what keep me writing and updating. Thanks a bunch_

_Brittany_


	29. Escaping the Hell

Searing pain ran up through my arm, as I was forcibly yanked through the entrance of the barn. The familiar musty smell of dust and mold wafted through the air.

"Hurry up!" Alex shouted angrily. Tears streamed down my face without restraint. I felt defenseless and frightened. Who would come to save us now? No one else knew that I was here and that Alex was behind Tristan's kidnapping. All these thoughts jumbled into my head.

Dim lighting, shadows, heavy breaths…I tried to wiggle my way out of his grasp, but it was no use. Alex was too powerful.

"Please, don't do this…" I pleaded behind trembling lips. He tightened his grip around my arm and pulled back my head.

Looking straight down into my crystal blue eyes, he roared:

"You make one more sound and I swear that'll be the last thing that you ever do!" With that, he yanked me up by the roots of my hair and dragged me along. Kicking and screaming, I tried to release his hold on me.

"I'm going to die anyways! Why don't you just do it? Do it already!!" I shouted in a hoarse voice. Tears completely coated my face; sleek and glossy. He swung my body around so that I was facing him.

"Why don't you listen?" he yelled, as his hand came out of nowhere and slammed against my cheekbone. The inflicted area stung like burning coals. I let out a shrill cry and fell to the ground. Unfortunately, Alex wasn't finished with me yet.

"Now, you're going to learn how…" he announced with a wicked smile smeared across his face. My slender fingers gripped the coarse dirt and matted it into the center of my palm for safe keeping.

"Get up!" he screamed angrily. The sound of his voice made me cower in fear. I slowly shifted my knees and regained my balance.

Right when I stood up, Alex pushed me back downwards. My back smacked against the hard floorboards and my head ricocheted off the side of the wooden stall. Blurriness and nausea overtook me. I struggled to gain my focus and stand up once again.

"I said GET UP!" he roared in a deep, throaty voice. My eyelids fluttered for a second, as I brushed my hand down the side of my face. Wet liquid seeped onto my fingers. It was blood…

"Get Up!" he screamed with a fury that could not be messed with. I planted my hands firmly on the wooden floor and heaved my body upwards. A single tear rolled down my cheek and paused right beside the tip of my nose.

"You have been nothing but a nuisance since you arrived! You meddle in my affairs and think that life will just magically fix itself…no, this is the end for you!" Alex whispered. A wry smile formulated along his chapped lips. My eyes widened and my heart raced with its final beats. He pulled out a 9mm gun from his back pocket and pointed it directly at my forehead.

A cool sweat busted out my pores and freely flowed along my smooth skin. This was it. My life would be no more after this. A part of me could handle that reality, but another part feared death more than anything in the world. _Tristan will never know about the baby…_

Alex's hazel eyes blurred with bugling red veins and tears of rage. I could see his fingers trembling, as he clasped the trigger.

"You don't have to do this…" I reminded him; anything to postpone my termination. He shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

"No, No, you are wrong! This is the only way…the only way…" he kept repeating. I took a step forwards, but that only aggravated him more.

"Get back or I'll shoot you!" he screamed. I could tell that Alex had lost all control over his actions. His body quivered and convulsed with an anger and a state of confusion that could drive anyone mad. He was done with negotiations and done with my bull crap. One more incidence…and that would be the end of me.

I bit my lip and placed a hand on my stomach. I could feel the faint mound of my growing belly and sense the presence of life.

"Do what you must," I advised him very calmly, as I reached out for the tip of the gun and brought his hand closer to my forehead. Now, the cool metal touched my very skin and washed away all the thoughts that once overwhelmed me. I could hear him let out a noisy sigh and pull the gun back some. _Maybe, he feels guilty…_I thought to myself in anticipation.

"Drop the gun Alex!" a voice shouted from across the space. I opened my eyes to find Bianca holding a gun between her fingers. Her pretty face and red eyes were soaked in tears. Soft black waves cascaded over the side of her shoulder and accentuated her pale complexion.

Alex whipped around and dropped his arm to his side in shock.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" he asked with furrowed brows. Bianca ran a hand down the side of her face and let out a faint sob.

"Killing people wasn't apart of the plan! None of this was Alex. Why are you doing this? She's pregnant you know," she cried. Alex's head turned back towards me, as he stared at my face for a second.

"It's the only way. Now, go back home and we'll discuss it later!" he yelled. The anger was mounting again; I could sense it.

"No!"—Bianca yelled in protest—"I am sick and tired of all of this! It ends now! Let her go!"

"Or what honey? You gonna shoot me! Listen, get over this little bitchy mood that you're in and go home. I'm taking care of this—" Alex confirmed. He whipped around and pointed the gun at me.

"For what it was worth"—he began to say—"You would have made Tristan very happy…"

I narrowed my eyes at that comment and clenched my fists.

"Alex!" Bianca shouted. The next few moments felt like slow motion. My blue eyes fluttered over towards Bianca, as a loud bang echoed through the air. Alex stumbled back a bit and grasped his chest. Knees buckling, chest lurching…his body collapsed upon the ground, as blood seeped out into a dark red puddle.

I clasped my hand against my mouth and let out a cry of disbelief. Bianca stood motionless with the gun tightly positioned between her fingers. She didn't say anything…just watching her husband's life disappear before her eyes.

I leaned down close to Alex's body and placed two fingers on the curve of his neck. No pulse…he was gone.

"You have to go. Take Tristan with you before someone comes…" she said in a cold and distant voice. I scrambled upwards and peered at her.

"Thank you…" I whispered. She nodded her head and reached into her pocket. Pulling out a single key, she threw it across the room.

"There's an old truck inside the shed. I want you to drive it all the way to the south side of the property. There should be a path that will lead you to the main road. But'a, you have to hurry" she informed me.

"What about you?" I asked, as I stared down at Alex's lifeless body. She shook her head and lowered the gun.

"Don't worry about me. Now go!"

I quickly darted over to the other side of the barn and searched around for Tristan. He was propped up against an old tractor with nothing but a ratty blanket to cover him.

"Tristan, sweetie. We have to go…" I cooed in his ear, as I tried to get him to stir.

"Come on, Tristan. Please wake up…"

His eyes slowly morphed into blue crescents. His lips parted and his hand touched mine.

"We have to get out of here. I'm going to need you to try and stand," I whispered. He didn't move at first, but after a few seconds passed, he managed to shift his knees. I slipped my arm around his shoulders for support and helped him to stand on his own two feet. It felt good to be so close to him again; especially, after everything that we had been through.

Tristan took one step at a time; completely relying on my body weight to keep him upright. We reached the entrance to the barn and made the decision to go one at a time to the shed about ten feet away.

"Look, I'll run and get the truck started. You'll just stay here and wait for me…" I instructed. He leaned up against the weathered door and nodded. I gazed down at his chest, which rose and fell like he had just run a marathon.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked suddenly. He opened his gorgeous blue eyes and made a faint grunt in affirmation. I ran my fingers down the side of his unshaven cheek and smiled.

"We're gonna get out of here. I promise you that…" I said softly. Then, turning to leave, I ran to the corner of the barn and checked if the coast was clear. No one appeared to be anywhere in sight, so I took a chance. I ran to the shed doors and pulled off the lock holding them securely shut.

In less than two minutes, I had the engine rearing to go and Tristan struggling to lift himself onto the seat next to me.

"I think if we drive down this way, we'll reach the path like Bianca said."

"And then what?" Tristan questioned in a crackly voice. I looked at him in surprise. That was the first time in a long time that I had heard him speak.

"I don't know…" I replied, slightly dumb-founded.

"We can drive to the airport and take a flight back to Zimbabwe" he suggested, as he placed a hand on his chest. Something was bothering him.

"Are you okay?" I asked out of concern. He threw back his head and smiled a little.

"Never been better…"

I could tell that he was lying by the expressions of agony he would make ever so often. His nose would wrinkle and his eyes would squeeze shut.

"Why don't we get you to a hospital—" I began to propose, as I put the truck into drive. Tristan shook his head causing blonde strands of hair soaked with blood to shake back and forth.

"No, they'll find us there. We have to get out of here…" he declared.

"What do you mean by "they"?" I asked in confusion. Tristan just stared out the window and motioned for me to get going. Not to press on the subject anymore, I placed my foot on the gas and began our journey to civilization.

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The lady at the front desk eyed us up and down, as she handed back my I.D. and my passport.

"Do you have any baggage that you would like to check in?" she asked politely. I shook my head and bit my bottom lip.

"When's the next flight supposed to leave?"

She tilted her brown eyes down towards the computer screen.

"The next flight is in half an hour—"

"Perfect" I announced, startling her a bit. She typed a few things on the keyboard before gathering our tickets together.

"Are you sure everything's alright, Miss?" she questioned, as she motioned towards Tristan. The whole side of his face was stained with dirt and blood.

"He had a little accident this morning. He'll be fine," I assured her, as I reached for the tickets. The lady reluctantly handed them over to me, as I ushered Tristan forward.

"If we hurry, we can make it through security in less than ten minutes" I said. Tristan nodded his head and began to jog down the hall towards the elevators with me. We got a number of dirty looks from men and women both departing and arriving. Some would even stop to stare and talk amongst themselves.

With all this added attention, my pace became quicker and quicker by the minute. Tristan hobbled behind me; dragging his aching knees and sore muscles. I knew that if we got stopped by personnel or a member of airport security, there would be no possible way that we could make it to the flight on time.

"Come on…only a short way to go," I encouraged as I slowed down my pace and wrapped an arm around Tristan's waist.

He let out a groan and threw back his head. I knew he was hurting miserably, but there was nothing I could do. We had to keep moving. That was the only thing that guaranteed us safety.

Slamming my hand against the silver button with an upwards arrow, I leaned against the wall; panting for air. Tristan did the same; placing a cut-up hand over his chest to slow his breathing. The veins along his arms like blue tubes bulged beneath the skin. Heart pounding, head swirling…_please let us get through this. _

The metal doors slid open revealing a vacant space. We both entered simultaneously and hit the 'close doors' button as fast as we could. An utter freeness washed over me as the elevator began to move upward. I felt like things could only get better from here on out. We had come this far and were not going to let anything stand in our way.

"You look different…" Tristan said as the sliding doors opened once again. I peered over at him and smiled.

"So do you." We stood there and observed one another for a few brief seconds. His eyes looked so cold and distant; like nothing could ever fix the hurt that has already been inflicted. Perspiration drenched his shirt and the strands of hair along his forehead. I couldn't help but admire his strong physique and beautiful lips…how badly I wanted to kiss him.

"Going up or down?" a whiny voice called. My eyes snapped forwards as they fixated on a short, balding man with a large gut hanging over the side of his trousers. He had his fat, stubby fingers wrapped around a leather brief case handle.

"Neither. We were just leaving," I announced as I reached for Tristan's hand. The sensation was warm and tingly; like the first time we ever touched. I dragged him out of the elevator and proceeded to scurry towards the security line.

There must have been a dozen families all waiting for their chance to walk under the metal detector, and have their items searched like they were suspected criminals. Tristan and I fell into line behind a rather plump woman wearing a large pink hat and brown sunglasses.

The fear of being stopped constantly weighed on my mind; but I wasn't about to let that stop me from getting where I wanted to go…better yet, where I needed to go.

"Next please…" the security guard said monotonically as she motioned for the line to continue moving. I kept my head low and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Please remove all watches, belts, loose change, cellular phones and shoes, and put them into the beige containers."

Everyone took a plastic container and gently set it on top of the metal rollers. Tristan bent down behind me and began to untie his shoelaces. Noticing this, I quickly stripped off the belt that I was wearing and placed it inside the container.

"Next please!" the security guard called. Her fiery red hair was swept up into a neat bun revealing enormous almond-shaped eyes—green like a lush meadow.

The woman in front of us placed the plastic container with all her belongings onto the moving belt. An airport security employee took a seat behind the monitor and observed the items passing through the x-ray. He smirked to himself and pushed a red button to keep the belt in motion. Time was everything to these people. The faster the process went, the faster the day went. It made perfect sense to me at the time.

"Keep it moving! Next in line please," the security guard called. I set my container onto the black belt and took a couple steps toward the metal detector. It was an arched, plastic doorframe with lights connected on either side.

"Pass through," the security guard commanded. I placed one foot in front of the other and slowly crossed beneath the machine. No lights went off, no buzzards sounded; I was safe.

"Next please."

I let out a sigh in relief and watched as Tristan began to walk beneath the detector. The security guard's eyes furrowed as she took a few steps toward him.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to take a step aside," she instructed. My heart began to pound a million miles an hour.

"No, Miss. You don't understand. We have to catch a plane right now!" I shouted in a panicky voice. The woman turned her head and looked me up and down.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. But right now, I'm gonna need to keep him here. He can't board a plane unless he has that gash on the side of his head cleaned up."

I couldn't believe how unsympathetic this guard was behaving. After everything that we had been through, how could she just take that all away?

"No, we have to get on that plane right now! He's coming with me…" I announced as I paraded up to Tristan and took him by the arm. The security guard gripped my shoulder to prevent me from moving.

"And as I told you, he cannot leave here until a physician takes a look at him," she barked. I nearly lost every rational thought flowing through my mind. My eyes narrowed with anger and frustration.

"Get out of my way!" I yelled in a shaky voice. The woman turned around and motioned for a few other personnel to come over.

"Miss, I think you need to calm down, alright? We're just gonna—"

"No! We have to get on that plane!" I roared. A couple men dressed in blue and black suits surrounded Tristan and me. I couldn't believe this was happening.

"Look, he's fine! We're both fine…just let us go," I tried to reason. One of the men with dark brown hair and hazy gray eyes wrapped his hand about my arm.

"Why don't we have a little chat over here," he advised. I ripped my arm away from him and staggered backwards. I could feel the hundreds of eyes now fixating on me.

"Get away from me," I whispered harshly. The man held up his hand and slipped a compassionate smile upon his lips.

"Just take it easy. We're not here to harm you," he said. I couldn't believe any of it. Everything spun and swirled into a big blur before my eyes. I brought my right hand up to my face and gently rubbed away the fatigue and soreness.

"Look, let's just talk," the man began in a smooth voice. I shook my head; feeling the insides of my throat seizing shut.

"All I want is to get on that plane and get the Hell out of here. Can you make that happen?" I shouted in a shrill voice. The man stepped forward and placed his hands upon my slender shoulders.

"I'll see what I can do," he reassured with a light squeeze of his fingertips. I bit my bottom lip and scrunched my forehead.

"That isn't good enough…I…we need to get out of here," I stammered; on the verge of tears. The man leaned his head forward and whispered:

"I really don't think you want to make a scene right now. Let's go somewhere and talk."

I knew that if I went with him, I would not only miss my flight, but screw up any chance of leaving the airport. He took me by the arm and pushed me forward. My feet began to stumble along the floor; limp and frozen.

"No…no…let go of me!" I screamed. My mind went berserk with panic and worry. I violently shook my body and hit him against the chest; anything to distance myself from him. The harder I tried to escape, the tighter of a hold he maintained.

"Stop moving!" he bellowed with irritation seeping between the gaps of his gritted teeth. I couldn't stop—not after being so close to utter freedom. Black spots blotched out the faces and the objects all around me. The last thing I remember before I passed out was the man's face—rumpled and distorted with rage consuming his rounded eyes.

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_Hey guys, _

_So, I'd like to inform you that there will be a sequel to this story!!! Yaaahhh:) But don't get too excited, this story isn't quite over yet. There are still a couple chapters to go before it's officially completed. I hope you liked it! Sorry it took me so long to update. I was stuck in a period of writer's block where I really didn't feel like writing anything. But now, I've finally left that phase and am ready to finish this. Please review as always. Thanks you guys…_

_Luv lots,_

_Brittany _


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